My Heart is Sherlocked
by theD0ct0rD0nna
Summary: When John's sister comes home and meets the infamous Sherlock Holmes, her life takes a turn. Sherlock/OC
1. Another Watson

"Right, I'm off. Be back in a few." Sherlock looked up from his violin, the bow screeching across the strings.

"Where are you going?" He watched John put on his coat and grab his keys. He looked the man over. Clean shirt, pressed trousers, just shaved face, hair combed. "And looking like that too."

John looked down at himself. "What's wrong with the way I look?" Sherlock just raised his brow and turned back to his music.

"On another attempt at a date are we John?" He ran the bow smoothly back and forth on the strings. "What is this one named? Kitty who works at a low rate diner? Dinah who is trying to be a children's doctor? Sally who says she is a vet but really works at a strip club?"

John sighed. "It's not a date Holmes. I wanted to look nice. I'm going to pick up my sister at the airport. Remember? I told you about this."

"Did you?"

"Yes. Twice last week."

Sherlock racked his brain for the memory.

_The first time:_

'_Sherlock,' John said while eating his breakfast. 'My youngest sister will be coming home. Would it be alright to have her stay here for a couple days?'_

'_If she isn't boring and dull. I can't have that kind of energy around my cleverness. You're boringness and dullness is enough already' He pulled up John's website and grimaced. 'I do wish you would take down that ridiculous picture of me in that bloody hat.' _

'_Not a chance.'_

_The second time: _

'_My Eva just phoned. She is looking forward to coming home.' Sherlock threw a spear at the wall, hitting the yellow smiley face directly. 'She passes her thanks to you for letting her stay here for a bit.' _

_Sherlock yanked the spear out and took aim again. 'Take that you pompous news paper journalist!' He threw the spear. 'That'll teach you to call me a 'useless crackpot who gets information off the internet'.' _

_Mrs. Hudson came walking in and said, 'What have you done to my bloody wall now?' Sherlock gave her a smirk. 'This is coming out of your rent mister. Oh John how could you let him carry on like this?' _

_John just raised his hands, as if he were being arrested. 'I'm not getting in the way of _that_,' he said pointing to the spear. _

_Mrs. Hudson walked out in a fury. _

He shook his head. "No my dear Watson you never said a word to me."

John rolled his eyes. "Right whatever you want. I have to go."

Sherlock continued to play as John made his way out. He listened to John's footsteps, counting each one, as he walked down the stairs, then strangely came back up them.

"Please don't be rude to her," John said popping his head back in the door. "She happens to be my favorite sister."

Sherlock smirked. "I'm never rude John. Don't you know that by now?"

* * *

><p>Sherlock sat with his eyes closed in his favorite chair. Mrs. Hudson bustled about the room, preparing the table for a 'family' dinner.<p>

"Oh it will be nice to have another female in the house," Mrs. Hudson said excitedly. "I hope she is as lovely as her brother. From the way he talks of her, she sounds like a little angle."

He groaned. "Mrs. Hudson are you going to fawn over this girl the whole time she is here? If that is the case I will have to remove you from my presence."

"I always wanted a daughter to fawn over," continued Mrs. Hudson. "A little lovely girl…"

Sherlock opened his eyes and let out a deep sigh. He mimicked putting a gun to his head and taking a shot. Just then the front door closed and John's voice could be heard. Mrs. Hudson ecstatically went out of the room and down the stairs.

"Oh John you're back. And this must be her. Hello pet I am Mrs. Hudson."

Sherlock listened intently as a timid little whisper of a voice responded. He couldn't quite make out the words. He let out a laugh. This girl was definitely John's sister, he could already tell.

"Sorry Mrs. Hudson don't think she'll join us for supper tonight," came Jon's voice. "Bit jetlagged."

"Oh of course. You go and rest."

Footsteps came slowly up the stairs. He listened, taking in every click of her heel on the steps. She came onto the landing and turned to go up the second flight of steps. He turned at that moment to get a look at her. Her back to him, he studied her as much as he could from head to foot.

Hearing John's footsteps coming up the stairs next he turned back around in his chair.

"Good night," John called up the stairs.

"Night John," came the timid little voice. The bedroom door closed. John came in and sat across from Sherlock.

"She won't be joining us. She's…"

"Jetlagged, yes I heard. I would imagine she would be after an eleven hour flight." He pressed his hands together, palm to palm, and rested the tips of his fingers under his chin.

John just stared at the man. "Should I even bother asking how you knew?"

"Her hair is mussed, suggesting she didn't have an easy time sleeping on the flight. The tags on the backpack she was carrying had LAX on them. Her boots were knock offs, bought from a vender on the street so that would place her in either…New York or Hollywood perhaps. Most likely Hollywood from the stitching in the boots and the leather used for the souls."

John raised his brow. "Right. Yes she was with some mates in California. Wanted a holiday before starting work."

"How splendid. Shall we eat?" He got up and walked to the table where Mrs. Hudson had set out plates of food. "Tell me if she is to sleep in your room, where will you be staying?"

"On the couch," he answered joining Sherlock at the table.

"How brotherly of you."

* * *

><p>A thumb hit him right in the face but Watson did not wake. He threw another from the bag, hitting him in the head.<p>

"John," whispered Sherlock. "John wake up. We have a case." He tossed another thumb finally causing the man to stir.

John opened his eyes and ran a hand over his face. As he did he found a thumb resting on his cheek. He startled up, tossing the thumb away from him.

"W-what are you doing?" He looked over to see Holmes perched in a chair with a bag of severed thumbs. "Why?" he asked pointing to the bag.

Sherlock took a thumb out and examined it. "I wanted to see if the nail would still grow even if the thumb has been severed."

"That's disgusting," he replied with a yawn. Looking around him he saw the floor was riddled with thumbs. "How long have you been at it?"

"Since five this morning. Did you not hear me? We have a case."

"Do we?" John removed his blankets and got up to stretch.

"Yes. It's very serious. The paper boy has been depriving me of my morning paper."

John walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain. Looking down to the street he could see a pile of papers in the bushes by the stairs.

"Or his aim is worse," John concluded. "Must have a new paper boy. I'll go and fetch them shall I?"

"Mmm yes. I'll get Mrs. Hudson to bring some breakfast." Sherlock hopped off his perch and flung open the door. "Mrs. Hudson! Breakfast!"

John shook his head and made his way down. "One of these days she is going to come up here and smack you," he called over his shoulder. Mrs. Hudson came soon up after with a tray.

"Young man when will you understand that I am not your housekeeper?" She set the tray down on the coffee table.

"You keep saying that and yet you continue to give proof that you are a housekeeper." He gestured to the tray of food she had set down. She glared at him and left the room mumbling to herself how she would never bring him food again.

As Sherlock began to pick at a muffin he heard the shower in John's room turn on. He looked to the stairs leading up there with curiosity. Slowly he made his way up the stairs. John came back into the flat, setting five newspapers on the table.

"Sherlock," he called. "I have your papers." John walked up to his room to get changed and found Sherlock there. "Did you hear? Your precious papers are downstairs."

Sherlock waved the matter away. "Are you aware there is someone in your shower?"

John hastily walked over to the bathroom door and placed himself in front of it. "Yes it's Anita."

"Anita?"

"Yes my sister. Remember? I…I told you she would be here. Have you forgotten already? It was last night." Had he truly forgotten already?

Sherlock shrugged. "I don't have time for trivial matters such as what family member of yours is here."

With that he walked out of the room and back downstairs. John rolled his eyes and changed into fresh clothing.

* * *

><p>"Oh this is wonderful," Sherlock said. He read the text intently as they walked. "Yes brilliant. John we have got a magnificent case."<p>

"Well it will have to be after lunch. Here we are." John stopped in front of a little mom and pop Italian restaurant. Sherlock kept walking and had to double back.

"Sorry what? Lunch? There is no time for lunch Watson. We have a case," he said excitedly pointing to his phone.

"No first we have lunch with my sister." John placed his hands on his hips. "Do you ever listen to me? When I speak does any of it go into your head?"

"Hmm? What sorry?" Sherlock's eyes were stuck on his phone. John gave him a look. Finally he looked back to the doctor. "Oh I listen. You know that."

"Good now come on."

"But John it's a dead body!" John lowered his head. "Not just any dead body either…it's a clown!"

John simply shook his head and walked into the restaurant. Sherlock followed trying to convince him the clown body was a better deal. John led the way over to a table where a young girl was waiting. She stood as they approached. Sherlock looked her over, getting a better study than he had the other night.

Her hair was straight, a little burnt at the ends, suggesting she straightened her hair. Her perfume, sprayed in four sprits, was light and fitting. Clothing, simple jeans and t-shirt. Neckline of t-shirt was V neck, not low enough to show anything but just enough to give off a flirty manner. Her mouth was the same as John's as well as the nose and eyes. Obvious signs of relation. But her stance was different. While her brother's stance was semi confident and strong, hers was fully confident and just weak enough to be pushed in any direction. Always ready for change and new things.

"Hey there," John said giving her a hug. "Sherlock this is my sister…"

"Anita Evangelista Watson," he said taking her hand in his. He pressed a light kiss to her hand. She smiled and looked to her brother.

"Can I ask…" she began as they sat at the table.

"How I knew your full name? Well your last name was obvious being related to John. Your middle name I got from John's pet name for you. 'My Eva' he called you. So that could only mean your middle name was infact Eva or it was short for something. Such as Evalyn but you wouldn't have such a boring name as that. No, no because you are not like your brother. Where he is dull and unexciting…"

"Oi," John said hitting his friend in the arm. Sherlock ignored him and continued.

"Where he is dull and unexciting you are bold and lively. Therefore the name Evangelista is fitting. And lastly, your first name. I heard John call you Anita just the other morning. And before you say 'That's cheating'," he said in a mock voice meant to sound like John. "It wasn't. I was simply listening and using my skills."

Anita sat back in her chair. "Well I feel like I should give you a tip for such a splendid performance."

"If you insist." Sherlock held his hand out. Anita laughed.

"Put your hand down. He's kidding," John said trying to push Sherlock's hand away.

"Well it's true," she said with an amused look in her eyes. "You are different."

"Have you been spreading nasty rumors about me John?" Sherlock asked turning towards him.

"He didn't have to say anything," Anita answered before John could. "I looked you up before I got here. I also read my brother's blog."

Sherlock turned his attention back to her. "Good lord you read that? Why?"

"Because she is my sister and she appreciates my work," John said in a sour tone.

"Well what a wonderful sibling you have," he said with a forced smile. "Wish mine was more…dutiful."

"What does duty have to do with family Mr. Holmes?" He tilted his head in curiosity. "You make it sound like a military thing. And if I'm not mistaken John has served his time."

"Family is military Miss Anita. You have the commanding generals, the parents, then you have the foot soldiers, ranking according to birth," he said leaning forward. "Oldest rules over the youngest just as the officers rule over the enlisted men."

Anita just looked at him. She reached over and placed a hand on his. "If that's the way you were brought up then I feel sorry for you."

"I don't need your pity," he answered. He found himself unable to look away from her or to move his hand away.

"Well you have it Mr. Holmes, like it or not." She removed her hand, leaving his out in the open, cold and vulnerable. Anita stood and gathered her things.

"Where are you going?" John asked.

"I'm going to skip lunch. Need to head over to work and get things set up for tomorrow." She smiled at her brother. "I'll pop round and get my things out of your flat. Thanks for letting me stay there John, Mr. Holmes."

John stood and followed her to the door. "Please stay. He's hard to get to know but I promise once you do…"

"Don't worry about it John," she said putting on a smile for him. "You and I will have lunch sometime. I'll see you later." She hugged him and glanced over to where Sherlock still sat. His head turned towards their direction but he never made eye contact with her.

John walked back over to the table but didn't take his seat. "I asked you not to be rude to her."

"I wasn't rude John," he argued. "I simply stated my mind as did she. We didn't have similar ideas thus leading to an argument. Nothing more."

"I wish you would get along with her."

"You wish I'd get on with everyone." Sherlock stood and placed John's coat in his hands. "Now come along. We have a dead clown to examine."

**Alrighty my dears, here is the first snipit. If you like it please let me know. Either review or PM me. Now I'm not so sure exactly where this is all going but I've had help from a mad genius. So I have somethings for certain scenes...I just have to connect them. So bear with me on this. **

**Don't own Sherlock or the characters. Just own Anita Watson, she is my brain child. **

**Thanks for reading! =)**


	2. Richard Brook

"Anita I can't talk just now," John said into the phone.

"Lestrade will you please ask the children to stand back," Sherlock instructed. He looked over the body. The clown made a good deal of money doing children's parties. He got enough money to keep himself well fed, hence the round stomach, and was able to afford good makeup. The white paint he had on his face, along with the colors, were clearly from the upper side of town from a very prestigious shop that catered to many actors and theaters.

Lestrade did as asked. He walked over to the mother of the child who was having the party.

"Mummy is Bob the clown dead?" asked the little girl. Lestrade sighed.

"Ma'am perhaps you want to take the children in the other room," he suggested.

"Oh yes," she replied a little distracted. "Uhm detective I was wondering…if he is infact…dead…well would it be wrong of me not to pay the company that sent him out? I mean he wasn't here the full time and he did just nod off."

Lestrade gave her a look. "Ma'am please just take the children into the other room." She nodded and gathered the little ones up. "Bloody mothers."

"Anita I can't hear you." John covered his other ear with his hand. "Why is there shouting?"

"Bloody old bat," called his sister. "My landlady is chucking me."

"Well perhaps if you didn't call her an old bat," he laughed.

"It's not funny John. She is booting me out!"

"What happened?"

More shouting came from the background. "Says that because I didn't live here most of summer she figured I'd moved. She rented my flat to some bloke! And it's bloody ridiculous especially when I sent her the rent!"

"Alright just calm down Anita…"

"John," called Sherlock. "John! Waiting on a doctor here John."

"Yeah," he called back into the room. "I-I'm coming. Look my Eva I have to go. Just go back to my flat and tell Mrs. Hudson you'll be there a bit longer. Alright? I have to go."

"John!"

"Yes! Sherlock…alright." He walked into the room and knelt down by the body. Sherlock watched him intently. "Right so let's have a look."

"Well thank you for joining us. What on earth were you doing?"

"Nothing…just a call." John examined the body. "Right no defensive marks so it wasn't a fight. Were there other people in the room when he died?"

"No," answered one of the cops. "One of the children walked in and found him."

"Right. Well he obviously had a nasty fall," he pointed to the man's head. "Big gash from left temple to the center of the forehead."

"Who phoned?" Sherlock asked, eyes still locked on Watson.

"What? My sister." Sherlock made a face. "Not a word from you."

Sherlock gave him an innocent look. "I just thought you knew not to mix work with personal things. Like calls from your Eva while we standing over a dead clown." He stood and looked around the room. "Right I know how it was done."

"Well then do share," Lestrade answered with mock impression.

"The clown did have a nasty fall as John said. But the gash in his head wasn't cause by the fall. Rather it caused the fall itself." He spun around taking in the room once more. "The gash is three inches wide and ten inches long, deep and rough." He looked to the clown's magic assistant standing off in the corner.

He walked over to her and held out his hand to her. Unsure she took it. He twirled her around the room as he spoke.

"There was someone in the room with Bob the clown. This person obviously was upset with Bob and was fed up with him. So they took an object close by and struck." He dipped the girl. Her right leg extended into the air a bit. Sherlock dropped the girl to the floor and took her high heel off.

Walking over to the body he compared the gash to the heel. Traces of white face paint and blood were hidden on the heel of her shoe.

"Bingo," Holmes said presenting the shoe to Lestrade.

He took the shoe and looked it over. "Motive?"

Sherlock turned back to the woman whom he had dropped to the floor. "Oh I suspect she and Bob were having an affair and he promised to make her a big star. When he didn't deliver and she got stuck doing party tricks, she snapped."

The woman began to sob. "He said he could get me onto Broadway."

"Arrest her," Lestrade commanded. Two cops went over, lifted her up, and escorted her out.

* * *

><p>Anita ran into the theater praying her director wouldn't notice that she was an hour late.<p>

"Nice of you to join us Miss Watson," called out the director as she tried to scoot around the curtains on stage.

"Sorry Judy," Anita said finally making it into backstage. She dropped her stuff off and got ready to go out and deliver her lines.

"Rough day?" asked one of her friends.

"Besides getting booted out of my flat? Nah everything is peachy." She put on a smile while flipping through the script.

"Ah I'm sorry mate. If you need a place to crash…"

"Thanks but I'm good. Staying with John and his flat mate."

The girl nodded her head. "Didn't know John had a life partner."

"They're not gay Robin. Well John's not. Lord only knows about the other bloke." The two girls smiled and laughed.

Clapping came from the front of the stage. "Ladies, gents please, you attention!" They all gathered to the front of the stage. Their director was in the audience, a man in a tailored suit standing next to her. "Your attention! We have a special guest with us. This is Richard Brook, he is our savior." The man smiled bashfully. "He is the one who is funding out play is keeping our little theater going."

"Oh cute," said Amy coming up beside Anita and Robin. "Very fit this Richard Brook bloke."

"Wonder if he goes by the name of Dick," added Robin. She and Amy giggled.

"You two are acting like fifteen year old boys in heat," Anita said rolling her eyes. The two girls looked to her.

"You telling me you wouldn't snog his brains out?" inquired Amy. Anita just gave her a look. "Oh right I forgot…I'm talking to the Virgin Mary over here."

"Piss off Amelia. At least I'm not a slag like you." Anita batted her eyes and smiled. Amy walked off with a glare in her eyes.

Robin nudged her. "She was just chattin Anita."

"Well she needs to learn to chat less."

"I think she was jealous." Anita gave her a questioning look. "The whole time Judy has been gabbing, that man hasn't taken his eyes off you."

Anita looked over to their 'savior' and found his gaze on her. Finding his eyes very intense she looked away and tried to hide herself among the cast. Looking back up, his eyes were still on her. She blushed a little feeling awkward with his attention on her.

"Right so let's show Mr. Brook what we can do and why he should continue to fund us," announced Judy.

* * *

><p>Anita sat backstage looking over her lines, all two pages of them. She had gone to a great theater school, trained with some of the best Broadway actors and actresses, and had gotten top marks in class. So how was it that she ended up with a minor role?<p>

'A job is a job,' she told herself over and over. 'Next time will be your big shot.'

After running through a few specific scenes the director called it a day.

"Thank you ladies and gents. That's it for now. I will see you all here tomorrow and we will run through the play," the director announced. "That means free time. Go crazy."

The company cheered and blasted music out of the sound system. Judy sat and talked with Richard Brook while the company released all the tension that had built up.

Feeling relaxed, Anita went backstage to gather her things and head back to John's flat.

"You were wonderful," said a voice behind her. She turned to see Richard Brook.

"Oh…thanks," she said shyly. "Didn't really think I was that noticeable."

"You were," he said with a smile. "When you were dancing up there just now…" He gave a little laugh. "I mean…wow. So much passion. You should have a lead role."

Anita smiled. "Would you mind telling that to my director?" she joked.

He nodded. "I would gladly do so." She looked over at him astonished. "Richard Brook," he said extending his hand to her.

"Anita Watson."

"Well Anita. It was nice meeting you. I look forward to seeing you around here." He began to head out.

"Are you going to be here for the rest of the rehearsals?" she asked before he left. He turned back to her and nodded.

"I'd like to see what and uhm..." He looked her up and down, a smirk on his features. "_Who_ I invested in."

Anita blushed and smiled. Amy walked over to her and watched him leave.

"Who's the one in heat now?" she whispered to Anita before heading out. Anita ignored the girl and continued to gather her things.

As she walked out with Robin, Judy stopped her.

"Anita tomorrow I want you to prepare a song," Judy told her.

"What for?"

"I might consider recasting you in this play." Anita felt her heart stop. "So bring a song tomorrow and a monologue while we're at it. Right? See you tomorrow."

Anita stood their speechless. Had that really just happened? Robin gripped her arm.

"Oh my God. That is amazing! She has never done that! Anita you could get a lead role."

"I…how…" She looked to see Richard standing in the foyer of the theater. While he talked with Judy he caught her eye and smiled.

**This might come out a little slow at times or it might go a little fast plotwise….but hope you like this chapter. Still figuring things out so please bear with me. Thanks for reviews and reading!**


	3. Trained monkey

The door shut and the two men came up the stairs. Anita got off the bed and went down the stairs. She met John on the landing. Sherlock walked into the sitting room without a glance in her direction. Anita ignored him as well as she could. His tall presence was hard to deny.

"Thought you'd be back ages ago," she said in greeting to her brother.

"Yeah sorry. We had to stop off at the hospital. Did you get everything sorted?"

She nodded. "Yeah I talked to Mrs. Hudson. Look I'd gladly take the couch and give you your room back."

"Nope I won't have it," he said shaking his head. Anita tried to insist but John wouldn't agree. "I won't have my little sister sleeping on the couch. Really Anita its fine."

"I promise I will go flat hunting first thing after practice tomorrow." He smiled and agreed.

"How is that going by the way?" He walked into the sitting room and took off his jacket. She followed him in.

"Really good actually." Her tone picked up excitement as she spoke. "Might get bumped up to a lead role."

"Oh Anita that's brilliant!" John hugged her. "Really proud of you. Especially since it was your first day."

"Thanks. I can't believe it actually happened. If I get a lead in this play then I can really get my name out there. I would kill for the lead role." John was glad to see her so excited.

"Acting is overrated," Sherlock mumbled as he walked past them. He went out onto the landing and hollered down, "Mrs. Hudson have we got nothing in tonight? It's like living in a bloody hostile."

Anita glared at the man before turning back to her brother. "Does Sir Git know I'm staying here a little longer?"

Sherlock came back in after getting no response from the landlady. He pushed past the Watsons and pulled up John's computer.

"Nope," John answered shortly. He walked up into his room and grabbed a fresh jacket and changed his shoes. "Didn't get the chance to mention it."

"Are you going to tell him?" Anita asked following him. John changed and started back downstairs.

"Not right now. I've got a date."

Anita smiled. "Oh John that's great. I'm really glad. When is she coming over?" She followed him down the second flight of stairs to the front door.

"She's not coming here. I'm going to meet her at the cinema." He pulled on his jacket and opened the door. Anita grabbed his arm to stop him.

"What? No." John gave her a curious look. "No, no, no. John don't leave."

He came back in and closed the door. "What's the matter? Why are you acting like this?"

"John don't leave me alone with…" She looked up the stairs. Sherlock was playing furiously on his violin. "…him."

John laughed. "Oh for the love of…Anita you've hardly known him a day."

"I know. It's horrifying." He shook his head and tried to remove her hand.

"Look I'm going out. Just talk to him, get to know him. You two will be fine. Let go now Anita." He undid her grip and opened the door again.

"No John please…" But he closed the door and left. Just then Mrs. Hudson came out of her door. "Oh Mrs. Hudson," she said with relief.

"Oh hello Anita darling," answered the older woman with a smile.

"Mrs. Hudson thank you for letting me stay here a bit longer. I was wondering if I could take you to dinner. I saw this cute little restaurant just a block away…"

"Oh sorry dear. I have my book club tonight." She walked past Anita and put on her coat. "We're reading romance novels this week. Very exciting. Have a good night love. Ta."

Anita sadly watched the woman walk out just as her brother had done. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. The screeching stopped for a brief moment causing her to look up the stairs. Then it began again.

"Bugger my luck."

* * *

><p>"John," he said playing a softer melody. "I thought we could go back to that French place on Victoria street. I think I can get us a free meal…" He looked back and found Anita instead of John in the doorway. "You're the wrong Watson."<p>

"Gee thanks," she said crossing her arms.

"Where's John?"

"He went out," she said flatly. Sherlock pulled back the curtain with his bow and peered out. "Has a date."

Sherlock sighed. "When will he learn to give up?"

"Shall we go out then?" She tried to make her voice light and hopeful. He simply stood there with his back to her, no answer. "Order in then yes?"

"Mmm," was the answer.

"Right." She walked over to him and took the violin out of his hands, cause an irritating sound on the strings. His electric blue eyes looked at her with curiosity. "Sorry have I offended you in some way? I mean it's like talking to a wall. Literally."

She pushed at his chest. Anita came up a little past his shoulder in height. Facing him straight on meant that she had to tilt her head back a little to look him in the eye, otherwise she would be talking to him from the neck to his waistline.

"Yes," he said without hesitation. Anita raised her eyebrows. "You're not clever. You take pride in acting, which is something any trained monkey can do. You are invading my space and what's more I don't like there being another Watson."

He took his violin back and moved around her to sit in his chair. Anita stood there for a moment letting his insults sink in. Finally she turned towards him.

"You don't like me because I'm related to John?" Was he serious? "You knew John had two sisters didn't you?"

"Yes but that doesn't mean I have to like it," he bit out. "I have my Watson and that is all I need."

Anita let out a laugh. "God you really are in love with him aren't you?"

He watched her walk into the kitchen. "I'm _not_ in love with John."

She rifled through some things and finally found a takeout menu. "Right and I'm the Queen Mother," she said putting on a voice.

"Well you are an actress. Lord only knows what kind of people you portray."

"Thought I was like a trained monkey," she said taking out her mobile and dialing the number. Sherlock nodded.

"That you are."

Anita resisted the urge to walk over and kick him.

* * *

><p>John took in a deep breath before opening the front door. Stepping into the foyer he took off his jacket, listening. There was no shouting or gun fire so that was a good sign. Walking into the sitting room he found his sister in front of the telly with her favorite takeout. Sherlock sat in the kitchen with his own takeout, a blowtorch, washing gloves, and some different compounds in test tubes.<p>

He walked over and plopped down on her. She made an annoyed sound and tried to push him off. John simply laughed and allowed himself to be pushed into the corner of the large chair.

"What are you so pleased about," she said after taking in her brothers smiling face.

"You. The both of you," he said raising his voice so Sherlock could hear. Sherlock turned off the blow torch and moved to lean in the doorway of the kitchen. "Sitting together, getting on like proper people."

Anita looked over her shoulder to Holmes. He looked back at her with an emotionless expression. She turned back around and shook her head.

"Just because we are in the same room doesn't mean we are getting on," she said before scooping more food into her spoon.

"That's the smartest thing she's said all day," Sherlock said before turning back to his work. Anita paused in taking a bite.

"Still having you two here together…it's lovely," John said patting Anita's leg.

"I hope he burns himself with that blowtorch." She finished her bite while Sherlock continued with his experiment. John sighed and turned his attention to the program she was watching.

* * *

><p>Sherlock came down the stairs and found the morning paper sitting on the coffee table. Good old John. He snatched it up and sat on the couch. As he flipped through the articles he scanned here and there for potential cases.<p>

Headline: Woman gone missing, all her clothes still at the house but jewelry taken.

Deduction: Ran off with wealthier man, currently on a yacht, took jewelry because it was the only important thing to her. Boring.

Headline: Visiting American actor states he was beat up in an alley way by gang of ten.

Deduction: Doesn't want to admit he is a rubbish actor, tripped while on set and fell into the camera man. Boring.

Just then a sound in the kitchen caught his attention.

"John?" he asked standing and walking over to the doorway.

"Nope it's the _wrong_ Watson." Anita sat at the cluttered table with a plate of toast. "Morning."

He looked around and then back to her. "Weren't you supposed to collect your things and leave last night? What are you doing here?"

"I live here," she answered with a mouthful of toast.

"John! John!"

He came down into the kitchen and smiled at the both of them. "Morning. What have we got here?"

"I made toast," Anita answered proudly. She handed a plate to him and set another plate out for Sherlock.

"Aww thanks Eva. Cheers." He picked up the plate and took a bite. Sherlock took the plate and threw it back on the table. Toast still in his mouth, John was dragged out into the hall.

"John what does she mean _live here_?" he asked in a harsh whisper. Anita smirked as she listened in to their hush, hush conversation.

"Mrs. Hudson offered her the flat downstairs," John explained.

"What?" he said too loudly. Anita snorted with laughter. "What?" he repeated a little lower. "221 A? But it's inhabitable."

"Not necessarily. She has a cleaning crew in there now. Fix it up a bit and its fine." He took another bite of toast and watched his friend try and work things out.

"She'll be living here?"

"Yes."

"Here with us?"

"Yes."

"Downstairs?"

"Yes," John said in a final tone. "Why are you having such a problem with this?"

"Because I am comfortable with the way things are round here."

"Good morning," came Mrs. Hudson's voice. She came up the stairs with a smile. "Morning John, Sherlock."

"Morning Mrs. Hudson," John said pleasantly.

"Ah the landlady who likes to make decisions without telling the rest of us," Sherlock said bitterly. "Anything else you would like to dump on us? Perhaps the rent has gone up, or maybe something more shocking like you're having an affair with the baker next door."

Mrs. Hudson looked at him with wide eyes. Bingo. She tried to hide the look and walked into the kitchen. John hit him on the arm and followed her into the kitchen.

"It will be nice to have another woman in the place," Mrs. Hudson said patting Anita on the shoulder. She smiled at the woman gratefully. Sherlock mimicked choking Mrs. Hudson earning him another hit from John.

Anita stood and placed her plate in the sink. "Well I thank you for fixing up the flat for me. It saves me the trouble of searching. It's practically impossible to find a decent place in London."

Anita went to the fridge to get a bottle of water. As soon as she opened it she screamed and shut it closed. All eyes turned to her. She had her back pressed against the door, eyes closed.

"T-t-there is a…_head_ in the fridge," she said turning sheet white. John and Mrs. Hudson looked to Sherlock.

"One of my tests," he explained. "Won't be in there for too much longer."

"Oh Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson said in a tired voice. This was the tenth time he'd done something like this.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Anita put a hand over her stomach.

"Oh come now young Watson." Sherlock walked over to her. He brought her away from the fridge and opened it up again. He put and arm around her shoulders to make her look at the head. "It's nothing too bad. It doesn't contaminate the food or anything. In fact it probably adds a little spice to whatever is in here."

"Oh my God." Anita got out of his grip and ran for the bathroom. Sherlock smirked. John ran after her to make sure she was alright.

"Come little Watson, must have a stronger stomach than that," Sherlock called up the stairs. John came back out giving his friend a sour look of death.

"You didn't have to do that." John pushed past him and shut the fridge. "She's throwing up her breakfast."

Holmes lost his smile knowing John was disappointed in him. "Oh it was just a bit of fun John. Besides if she is going to live here this is what she will have to get used to."

Anita came back down the stairs, hand over her stomach. John met her in the hall and rubbed her back.

"Alright? You want me to make you something else to eat?"

She shook her head. "No I'll eat at work. I'm going to head over there. See you later."

"Yes little monkey go to your circus and perform for the mindless drones," Sherlock added as she headed for the stairs. She paused, walked back over, and kicked him in the leg. Sherlock winced and rubbed his leg as she took off.

John laughed. "You deserved that."

**Thanks for reviews! Hope you like this chapter! I will see if I can get another one out tonight =)**


	4. A proper genius should never drink

"Everyone gather please," called Judy. "Gather. We have one of our own giving a special performance." The company took seats in the audience with Judy and Richard. "Anita Watson front and center."

Anita walked out to find everyone staring at her. Her heart stopped for a moment as her hands began to get clammy. This was not how she pictured things would be.

"Right let's start with the monologue," Judy instructed. "Then we will have the song you prepared."

"Uhm…Judy I didn't think…I mean I wasn't expecting everyone…"

Judy sighed. "Did you really think I would have you do this in private Watson?" Anita shifted her weight nervously. "If you can't do it in front of us then how are you going to do it in front of an audience of two hundred?"

Anita nodded and took in a deep breath. She searched for a good spot to put her focus and found Richard's eyes. He smiled at her, as if to urge her on and give her confidence. Focusing on him she went right into her monologue from Wicked. Once successfully through that she moved on to her song, one from Phantom of the Opera to show off her ability.

Once it was done everyone clapped and Anita let out a breath of relief.

"Well I must say," Judy said standing, "you have been hiding your talent Anita. I'm bumping you up to the role of Tanya."

Amy stood up and furiously declared, "That is my role Judy. I already know all the lines."

Judy turned to the girl. "Calm yourself Amelia. I'm giving you a promotion too. You will now be Sophie. So learn those lines. "

Amy sat down with a proud smile. Anita felt a knot form in her stomach. She had gotten a lead role but not _the _lead role. Still it was a start and a better one than she had originally. They went through the play the two girls in their new roles. After going through the whole play they went over a couple scenes and ended it for the day.

While Anita gathered her things she took notice of Amy chatting up Richard. A little pang of jealousy ran through her. Feeling ridiculous for having that feeling she gathered up her things and hurried out of the theater. While she stood outside trying to get a cab someone called for her. Richard came running up to her side.

"Hey where are you off too so quick?" he said with a smile. "Thought maybe we could get dinner. Celebrate your promotion."

She raised her arm out and called, "Cabbie! C'mon!" Another cab passed her up. She let out a deep sigh. "Thought you'd be taking Amy out."

"Why would I do that?"

"Cabbie!" It drove on. Anita let her arm drop to her side. "Because she got _the _lead. I just got second best."

"You got a better role than you had," he said trying to bring things back to a positive point. Anita stood there quiet. He held his hand out and got her a cab. "Look sorry. I won't bother you anymore. Goodnight."

Anita watched him start to head back into the theater. "Wait," she said feeling horrible. "Wait Richard please." He came back over to her. "I'm sorry…I've just had an up and down day."

He shrugged. "It's alright."

"No it's not. I shouldn't have acted like that. Especially to you. You did help me get this part." She set her bags down and hugged him. He stood there unsure of what to do.

"What's this for?" he asked after a moment.

"A thank you. Thank you for helping me the way you did." She felt his arms slowly come around her. She gave him a squeeze before letting go and giving him a little smile. Richard looked almost stunned that she had hugged him.

"Oi," called the cabbie. "Are you getting in or what?"

"Yes," Richard said coming out of some inner thought. "Yes we are." He opened the door for her. "Have dinner with me."

"Alright." She smiled and got into the cab.

* * *

><p>John let out another sigh. He got up and went to the window once again, looking out to the darkening street. Where was she? Practice let out an hour ago and she had agreed to come home so they could go to dinner. What was taking so long?<p>

Sherlock listened from his place on the couch. Eyes closed, nicotine patch pressed to his arm, he heard the man walk back to his seat and sit down again. John tapped the armrest, staring at the clock on the mantel piece next to the skull. John sighed again. Before he could get up again, Sherlock spoke.

"John Watson if you get up from that chair I will shoot you in the knee cap."

"She said she'd be here. Where is she?" He got up regardless of what Holmes had said. Sherlock opened his eyes and turned to look at his friend.

"Practice ran late most likely. Probably have to redo the scene where all of them pick lice out of each other's hair." He chuckled, impressed with himself.

"You're not funny," John bit out. "Acting isn't that bad of a profession."

Sherlock's brow furrowed. "I am too funny. You're always laughing at my jokes."

John went to sit back down for the tenth time. "That's because no one else will."

This caused his brow only to furrow more. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the couch. "We could always go out."

John scratched his head. "I told Anita we would have dinner together."

"We could go out, you and I, like we used to," Sherlock suggested again. John hesitated.

"What if she comes home right after we leave?" He looked over to Sherlock. He had one of those looks about him. The look that said he was determined not to show John how much he really wanted to go out. Which then turned to being shot down and not too sure how to react. "Alright."

Sherlock jumped up from the couch and grabbed his jacket. John stood and grabbed his as well. On their way out he texted Anita.

**What happened? Thought we were supposed to have dinner. **

**John **

* * *

><p>"Hey look at that! She did it!" Richard clapped as Anita successfully got the chow mein into her mouth with chopsticks. Anita laughed and missed one of the noodles. She slurped it up causing more laughter.<p>

"I'm not the most attractive eater," she confessed setting down the chopsticks.

"Is anyone?" Richard smiled revealing lettuce in his teeth. Anita laughed along with him.

"So I looked you up on the internet the other night."

"Did you?" he asked leaning on the table top. "And what did you find?"

"Shocking things," she said leaning towards him. His smile slipped from his face.

"Such as?" he asked, all joking drained from his tone.

Anita smiled. "The fact that you have a children's TV program." Realization came over his features.

"Oh right," he said with a laugh. "The Storyteller. Right."

"I can't believe I didn't recognize you."

"Are you in the habit of watching children's TV?" he said before taking a sip from his drink.

"Sometimes," she laughed. "The child in all of us brings us back to those shows. But what I can't figure out is why put money into a little London theater if you have this successful TV show."

He shrugged. "Well as an actor myself I started out on the stage. Figured it was time for me to support my fellow actors. Plus I got the chance to meet you."

Anita gave him a shy smile. He reached over and placed a hand over hers.

* * *

><p>While he paid the cabbie, Anita waited by the steps to the front door. Richard sent the man on his way and came back over to her.<p>

"Well I had fun. Thank you again Richard."

"Of course." He gave her a smile before walking closer and kissing her cheek. This led to a light kiss on the lips, which in turn led to a more passionate kiss. Just then the front door opened and out came the landlady.

"Oh Anita."

"Mrs. Hudson," she said in shock. "Hello." Mrs. Hudson came down the stairs. "Uhm this is Richard Brook. Richard this is Mrs. Hudson my landlady."

"Good to meet you ma'am," Richard said extending his hand. She shook it with a knowing smile to Anita.

"Yes. Well off to book club again. Oh Anita darling your flat is all fixed up. So you can get settled in," she said glancing over to the young man.

"Okay great. Thanks Mrs. Hudson."

"Have a good night," Richard said as she walked away. The older woman gave the young girl another knowing look before she disappeared around the corner.

Anita and Richard laughed. She ran a hand through her hair, feeling like her mother had just caught her snogging her high school boyfriend. Never the less, Anita took him by the hand and led him inside. In the foyer he kissed her again. As they kissed noises floated down to them from the sitting room. Richard looked up the stairs.

"Someone in?"

"It's my brother and his flat mate," she said following his gaze. Sherlock's violin could be heard along with singing.

"Can I meet him? Your brother?"

"Uhm I would but…his flat mate knows nothing of personal privacy. He's also rather rude and doesn't really care for actors." She gave him a small smile as an apology.

"Ah I see," he said with a little laugh.

"Besides it sounds like they are dead drunk." Just then the sound of glass crashing to the floor reached them. The two men laughed.

"Not quiet dead apparently." He turned back to her and smiled. "Well then I'll head out."

She nodded and opened the door for him. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Oh yeah. I actually won't be here until the night of the play. Got a lot to do with the TV show and everything."

"Oh alright." He smiled and placed a hand on her cheek.

"Don't worry I'll keep in touch." He gave her another kiss and said goodnight.

* * *

><p>Walking up into the sitting room she found Sherlock sitting in a chair, strumming his violin. Meanwhile John was dancing, beer bottle in hand, and singing My Jolly Sailor Bold. Sherlock laughed, hiccupped, and sang along.<p>

"Anita!" John bellowed upon seeing her.

"Ugh it's back," Sherlock said sourly. John laughed and took a drink of beer.

"What did you do to him?" Anita asked gesturing towards her brother.

"Nothing. We just had a few drinks. Had to get him to shut up about you," Sherlock answered still strumming the tune.

"What are you on about?"

"You stood him up for dinner." Sherlock turned towards her. "That's not very nice little Watson. Not nice at all."

She sighed and hit her head with her palm. "Oh God. John I'm so sorry! I totally forgot. I got caught up with something."

"More like with someone," Sherlock added. "Whoo you reek of his cologne."

"Oi shut up you. You are even annoying drunk." Sherlock stood, wobbled back, and then gained his stance.

"I'm annoying? No, no, no you are the annoyance Anita Watson," he said pointing to her. Meanwhile John was still dancing and singing. "Coming in here changing things."

"Oh please," she rolled her eyes. They argued back and forth until a crashing sound took their attention. John had sunk to the floor, hitting his head on the floor.

* * *

><p>Anita got John upstairs and into his room. As gently as she could she lay him on the bed. As he hit the pillows he came too.<p>

"Ugh…oh blimey," he groaned. Anita sat next to him on the bed. "Why didn't you answer my text?"

"I'm sorry John. I forgot about tonight. Got caught up with…work things." He slowly nodded and patted her hand.

"It's alright. Ugh, oh I wish I hadn't drank so much." He covered his eyes with a hand.

She looked down to his feet and recognized a pair of her heels. "Are you wearing…"

"Yeah," he answered before she could finish.

"And is that…"

"Makeup." She nodded and chuckled. "I'm going to kill Sherlock."

"Not if I don't kill him first."

John let out a laugh. "Good luck with that."

"I don't think you have a concussion but just to be safe I think I should keep an eye on you tonight."

He chuckled and removed his hand. John looked at her and said, "Now you are Doctor Watson. I've taught you well."

She smiled. "I've also had lots of practice with Harry. I used to sit with her all night when she'd come home from parties drunk off her ass."

John closed his eyes feeling a wave of sleep hit him. He leaned his head on her arm. "You're a good sister."

She smiled and kissed his head. "You get some rest and I'll be back in half an hour to check on you."

She removed the heels and pulled a blanket up around him. John nodded off in seconds. Making her way back downstairs she called out for the unruly flat mate.

"Mr. Holmes." She came into the sitting room where he had been. But he was nowhere in sight. "Where you've you gone?"

The sound of the toilet flushing led her upstairs. She went into his room and found him hunched over the bowl. He sat back and leaned against the wall.

"I don't drink like this. I never drink this much," he confessed. She walked into the bathroom and grabbed a cloth.

"You could have fooled me," she said wetting the cloth. She knelt down by him and began to clean his face.

"Are you always this rude?"

"Only to you Mr. Holmes." She finished cleaning his face and threw the cloth into the hamper. "C'mon then. Let's get you to bed."

She lifted him up and dragged him to his bed. There she let him fall onto the mattress, his face burying into a pillow. With a sigh she set to work and flipped him over. As she reached for his shirt buttons, Sherlock began to snore. She got his shirt off and tossed it to the ground. Next she removed his shoes and then began on his trousers. As she reached for the belt he suddenly came too.

"Why are you undressing me?" His voice startled her causing her to jump.

"Because your clothes smell of alcohol and sick."

"Hmm. This is awkward, especially since we don't like each other."

Anita rolled her eyes. "Just go back to sleep Mr. Holmes."

And so he did. Anita quickly removed his belt and tugged off his trousers. She threw a blanket over him and turned out the light. Before heading back to John she tossed his clothes in the wash.

**Oh did I not mention there was a love triangle? Muahahahaha! **


	5. A study in hidden desires

The second he saw her coming up the stairs he wrapped his dress robe tightly around him. Anita walked into the kitchen and cautiously opened the fridge. The head was thankfully gone. With a sigh of relief she opened it all the way and got out milk. Sherlock stood and walked over to the doorway of the kitchen.

"Morning," she said without looking to him. "Cereal?" He didn't answer. She looked over to him. "What?"

"You," he said shortly. Anita turned back around to pour her cereal. "You took my clothes off last night."

She smirked. "Yes I did. Couldn't leave you there smelling like alcohol and sick."

"You hate me," he said walking in a bit further. "Why help me?"

"Call it motherly instinct. Speaking of I need to check on John." She turned and began to head out when he stopped her. He stood in her path, getting very close to her. Sherlock bent his head down so it was easier for her to look him in the eye.

"Motherly instinct perhaps or…"

"Or?" she asked in a quiet voice. Having him close to her, his blue searching eyes right on her, made her stomach knot up and her heart jump.

"Or you couldn't resist getting me into my boxers. Some secret desire that's hidden away. Something that buried its way into your subconscious the day we met."

While they stood there he took in a quick glance of her. Pupils dilated, lips slightly parted, heart rate increased, look of shock in the expression. His own sense of shock slowly slipped over him. Oh…oh. Had he hit a truth? Did she really, _could_ she really, have some sort of secret desire that had hidden itself even from her?

No it couldn't happen. She hated him. They hated each other. However if that was the case then why was his stomach doing flips? Just the thought of it, the possibility that she could fancy him, sent a thrilling volt through his body.

The sound of John coughing caught their attention. Sherlock stepped away from her and returned to the couch. Anita stood in the kitchen feeling frozen. John slowly came down the stairs.

"Morning all," he said in a groggy tone. Sherlock nodded to him. "Anita you alright?"

"Hmm?" She had realized she'd been standing there with cereal bowl in hand. "Oh yeah fine."

She handed him the bowl and glanced in Sherlock's direction quickly. John looked between the two feeling the tension that had built up. It was so thick he could have cut it with a knife. Something had happened just before he came down. Had they had another row? Or had they spoken to each other like decent people?

Whatever it was John wanted to find out.

* * *

><p><strong>Missing you. Hope all is going well this week. See you soon <strong>

**RB **

Anita smiled and felt her head swim with the memories of his kiss. John cleared his throat getting her attention back on him. She looked up from her phone and came back into reality.

"Is dinner interfering with something?" he asked from across the table. She tucked her phone away.

"Sorry. Sorry John." She gave him an apologetic smile.

"Who is he then?" he asked before taking a sip of his drink. Anita looked at him confused. "Don't give me that look. For weeks you've been getting texts that send you into…some daydream land."

"I don't…"

"Sherlock was right…" He paused as the waiter set the food down in front of them. "That night it wasn't something you got caught up with. It was someone."

"John."

"Just because I was drunk doesn't mean I wasn't listening," he said digging into his meal. Anita smiled and gave in.

Letting out a sigh she nodded. "His name is Richard Brook. He has a children's show, The Storyteller. He's funding the play and the theater."

John raised his eyebrows. "Sounds like a nice chap. How come I haven't met him?"

"Because our dear Mr. Holmes doesn't look highly on actors. I don't want him to scare mine off."

John looked at his sister. She played with her food a bit before taking a bite. Anita always got a look about her when Sherlock was mentioned. He wasn't quite sure what kind of look it was but there were hidden feelings in her eyes. What was going on between them? For two weeks they had acted strangely around each other. They still had rows but Anita was never as harsh as she used to be. And Sherlock was the first to always back down, very unlike him. He adjusted in his seat and cleared his throat.

"Look I know Sherlock is a difficult person to get on with," began John.

Anita snorted. "Understatement of the century."

John nodded. "Trust me when I first met him…I couldn't stand him. He was arrogant, left me on a number of occasions on my own, almost got me blown up," he added with a laugh.

"So why are you friends with him?" she asked with great concern. "He is a horrible human being John."

"Because he helped me out quite a bit Anita," he said in a defensive tone. "When I came back from the war I was alone, tortured by memories, useless. He gave me my life back, gave me a purpose." Anita's shoulders slumped.

"I didn't know. John why didn't you come talk to me? Or Mum or dad? You even could have gone to Harry."

He shrugged. "I found Sherlock. That's all I needed."

Anita laughed. "You two really are in love."

John gave her a look and sat back in his chair. "Why does everyone think we are a couple?"

"Cause you are," laughed Anita. John let a smile slip over his face. "I didn't know he helped you out so much."

"See? He can be more than the arrogant, smart ass he makes himself out to be." John reached over and placed a hand over hers. "Just give him a chance. Will you do that for me? Give Sherlock another shot?"

Anita sighed and hesitated. "Fine," she finally said. "Fine I will do this for you." John smiled gratefully. "_But_ if he still acts like a wanker then that's it. Deal?"

"Deal, you've got it." He smiled triumphantly. "Thank you Anita."

"I wouldn't say thank you till he proves he is not a total git." John laughed.

* * *

><p>John came into the sitting room to find Sherlock perched on his chair watching telly.<p>

"John this is fascinating," he said never taking his eyes off the screen. "This program CSI: Los Angeles. These Americans actually think they are finding good evidence. They're all so dull and idiotic. They remind me of Anderson."

John shook his head and laughed. He took off his jacket and sat on the couch, picking up his laptop to check his blog. Anita came into the room and sat in the chair across from Sherlock. She watched him for a moment feeling nervousness creep into her. Taking in a deep breath she finally spoke.

"So Mr. Holmes." He glanced over at her before really looking in her direction. "I know how you detest the theater…"

"It's not the theater I detest Anita," he argued. "It's the actors who try and make us feel connected to the characters that I detest." Anita looked over to John, her mouth locked in a tight line. He nodded for her to continue.

"_Anyway_, I was wondering if you…might be willing…to be dragged to the theater Sunday night," she pushed out. He tilted his head in curiosity.

"Why? What's on Sunday night?"

"My play."

Sherlock looked back to the telly, not a word leaving his mouth. Anita waited for any kind of response. Even a 'no' would do but instead he just sat there staring at the screen. She looked back over to John, who was occupied with his blog. About to get up and leave the room she paused when he finally spoke.

"Yes I would love to." She looked over at him with surprise.

"Really?" He turned his gaze back to her.

"Yes. You invited me didn't you?"

She nodded slowly. "Yeah but I didn't think…" He raised his eyebrows. "Right, no, yeah. Uhm so I'll reserve two tickets then shall I? Okay. Uhm…goodnight then."

He gave her a nod before she stood and headed out of the room. On her way out she looked to her brother. John gave her a smile and raised his brow as if to say 'told you so'. While heading down to her room Anita found herself smiling. Was she actually happy that Sherlock had agreed to come? Yes. Yes that was it. She was happy that he was going to come see her play.

Maybe this friend thing could work out between them. It wouldn't be so bad, she guessed, to be friends with Mr. Sherlock Holmes the brain wonder. The thought of being friends with him sent her stomach into knots again. What was it about him that made her heart race? Even when they had a row she didn't really feel any hate for him, at least not like she used to. Ever since he mentioned her having hidden feelings for him, her mindset changed towards him. As it seemed his did as well.

But that was ridiculous. She didn't have romantic feelings for Sherlock. Those feelings were geared towards Richard. Shaking her head of the thoughts about Sherlock, Anita got onto her bed and pulled up the texts she had gotten from Richard. All of them were about how he missed her, hoped everything was well, updates on the show, and that he would see her soon for opening night.

She smiled as she read through them. Anita could see herself being in a serious relationship with this man. Taking that thought to bed, she tried to imagine what life would be like with Richard Brook.

**Thanks for reviews! Hope you like this chapter! Hmmm is something building between Sherlock and Anita? Me thinks so ;) **


	6. Let the curtain rise

Backstage teemed with whispers, nervous ticks, last minute review of lines or choreography, giggling, and making sure props were in the right place. Anita made sure her costume was just right, fixing her hair, checking that her makeup wouldn't smudge. Suddenly a pair of hand slid around her waist. Richard appeared in the mirror behind her.

"Hey!" She turned around and hugged him. He hugged her back tightly.

"You look superb," he said setting her back to take her in. "The best Tanya I've ever seen." She smiled and kissed him. He pulled back from her with a little laugh. "Careful, makeup remember."

Anita shook her head. "I don't care. I missed you." She kissed him again. An announcement came ringing through the theater for the audience to take their seats. He gave her one more quick kiss.

Taking her hand in his he gave her a smile. "Alright I have to go. I'll see you after."

She nodded and went to join her fellow cast members. Forgetting one of her props she went running back into the prop room. From there she could hear the announcer.

"Ladies and gentlemen," came Jason from the tech room. "The Little Tudor Theater is proud to present Judy Salem." Clapping began as Judy took the stage.

Anita rummaged through the prop room for her purse that she was supposed to be carrying in her first scene. Finally she found it under a pile of plastic beer bottles. She tugged it out just as Judy was finishing her speech about directing and thanking Richard for supporting the theater. About to run back to the stage, Anita heard a crashing sound. She followed the sound into the locker room.

Coming into the room, she looked around and found nothing that could have made a sound. About to turn around and leave the crashing sound came again. It sounded like someone was hitting the lockers.

"Hello?" No answer. Anita shook her head feeling stupid for even speaking. If there was someone in there she would have seen them. Instead she called out into the empty room expecting an answer. Another knock on the lockers caught her attention. It was closer this time and continued.

Anita walked towards the sound, locating the locker. Slowly she reached out and opened the locker. The purse dropped from her hands.

* * *

><p>"And now," said Judy proudly. "I am proud to present The Little Tudor Theater's first production of Mamma Mia."<p>

"We barely made it," John whispered to Sherlock as they took their seats. "Next time don't argue with the cabbie on the best route."

"Look I was simply trying to get us here," he said in defense of his actions. "If the man had taken Thorton street instead of going all the way around to…"

"Sherlock," John interrupted, "I really don't care right now. I'm just saying next time let the cabbie do his job."

Sherlock yanked his scarf off and settled into his seat. John sighed and did the same. The lights went down, everyone clapped again, the music began, and the curtain rose. But there was no one on stage.

Then a scream pierced the air. For a split second John could have sworn it sounded like Anita. Both he and Sherlock bolted out of their seats. The two of them ran to the stage and hopped up. The music stopped and the curtain closed. Judy came out to calm the crowd.

Sherlock and John made their way through backstage, weaving in and out of different cast members who had gathered. Finally they ran into Anita. Sherlock caught her in his arms as she came running out of the locker room.

"What is it?" Her face had gone sheet white, cheeks wet with tears. He cupped her face to get her to look at him. "Anita."

"Amy is dead," she answered in a horrified tone. Anita buried her face in his chest while John ran into the locker room to confirm what his sister had said.

Sherlock stood there feeling awkward. He wasn't good with comforting people, he didn't know how. Hesitantly he put an arm around her trembling form. John came back out seconds later, a crowed had formed, including Judy.

"She is dead." The crowd gasped and cried. "We need to call Lestrade, let him know what's happened."

"Yes of course," Sherlock answered in a distracted tone. John took notice and felt the awkwardness roll off him.

"I'll take her," he said holding in arms out for his little sister.

Sherlock removed his arms from around her but Anita didn't budge. John gently placed his hands on her arms and pulled her away. Finally she turned and attached herself to John. Sherlock took a moment to watch John handle the girl. He wrapped her in his arms and rocked her side to side. John tried to hush her crying and tell her everything was going to be alright. It looked easy enough to do, so how come he hadn't thought of that?

"Sherlock?" He snapped to at the sound of John's voice. "Are you going to call Lestrade?"

"Yes. I'll have a look at the body as well." He nodded and walked past John into the locker room.

"I'm going to take Anita home," John called after him.

* * *

><p>The girl had been placed in the locker while she was dying. A gash ran along the throat letting the blood flow and cutting off any vocal communication. Gently he took the body out of the locker and lay it on the floor. As he did so he caught a scent, a very familiar scent. No it couldn't be. Turning away from the body he examined the locker top to bottom.<p>

At the bottom he found a long strand of brunette hair. He plucked it up and examined it in the light. Doubt started creeping into his mind. She couldn't have…. He turned back to the body and found a couple more strands of hair. They matched the one at the bottom of the locker. Sherlock lay the strands back on the body and stood.

He paced the locker room trying to figure things out. Something wasn't right, things didn't add up. He ran his hands quickly through his hair, flinging the curls about. Kneeling down by the body he took out his magnifying glass and looked at things a little closer. Bringing the glass down to the girl's hands he looked at the finger nails. Under her nails were traces of makeup, her makeup.

"Oh," he breathed. "No, no, no." He stood and placed his hands palm to palm, fingertips resting just under his nose. Making up his mind he took out his mobile and dialed Lestrade's number. "Lestrade. There's been a murder at The Little Tudor Theater. I know who did it and we have a major problem."

* * *

><p>John helped Anita gather her things. He watched her carefully to make sure she was alright. She had stopped crying but sniffled every once in a while. Once everything was gathered up she and John headed out. The audience had cleared away, being told that there were technical difficulties and the play would be discontinued.<p>

John carried her bag and placed a loving arm around her shoulders.

"Well get everything sorted," he promised her. She nodded. "I'm sorry you had to see her like that."

Anita leaned her head on him as they walked out. Lestrade and his men came in just before John and Anita reached the door. Lestrade came up to them with a sympathetic look to the young girl.

"You must be Anita. I'm sorry you had to witness this," Lestrade said patting her hand.

"Thanks," she answered in a weak voice.

"I might have to ask you some questions later on." He looked to John and then back to her. "If that's alright."

Anita nodded. John gave Lestrade a grateful smile and a nod.

"I'm taking her home and then I'll be back. Tell Sherlock?" Lestrade nodded. The brother and sister were almost at the door when Sherlock burst out of the curtain.

"Ah freak," said Donovan with a forced smile. "What have yea got then?"

"Lestrade arrest that girl," Sherlock demanded pointing to the culprit. Lestrade looked over his shoulder to see who he was pointing to.

"You're joking right?" he asked looking back to his Consulting Detective. "Have you had too many nicotine patches mate?"

"Detective Inspector Lestrade I am telling you to arrest Anita Watson," Sherlock clarified. "She is the murderer."

John looked back to his friend with shock and then to his sister and back. Anita turned with her mouth hanging open.

"What?" asked the Watsons in unison.

**=O **


	7. Play the game

**Guess it would be too evil to leave you hanging on that cliff…so here is your rescue =)**

John's heart dropped upon seeing one of Lestrade's men cuff Anita. There was _no_ _way_ she could have done it. She was not a killer, she couldn't even kill a spider…and she hated spiders like the plague! He watched the policeman push her into a chair and instructed her to wait and to do nothing 'funny'.

John walked over to the man and spun him around. "Oi you don't touch her like that you hear me?"

The man, a kid really compared to John, rolled his eyes. "Look doctor I know how to handle murderous little girls."

John's mouth set into a tight line as his hand curled into a tight fist. His fist connected with the boy's face, sending him to the floor.

"Ow!" John shook his hand out, the knuckles turning red. Anita kicked the policeman in the leg as he tried to stand. He cried out in pain and fell back to the floor.

"Watsons!" Lestrade called from the stage. "I'll thank you not to attack my men! We already have one dead body. Isn't that enough?"

John let out a long breath. The policeman stood and wiped the blood away from his nose. John gave him a death glare before turning a kinder gaze to his sister. He walked to her and bent down, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I didn't do it John," she said in a desperate voice. "I didn't. You know that, you know me. I never would have…I never could have…"

He nodded. "I know Anita. Don't worry your big brother is going to get this sorted."

He placed a kiss on her head before taking to the stage. As he walked his heart thumped with rage and adrenaline. He walked through backstage and found Sherlock bent over the girl's body. John yanked him up and turned Sherlock to face him.

"What the _bloody hell_ is wrong with you?" Sherlock just looked at his friend, the usually calm doctor. "How could you do this Sherlock? How could you?"

"Sorry you think this has something to do with me?" he asked giving John a confused look.

John shifted his weight, feeling the need to constantly move about. "You very well know Anita didn't kill this girl."

"Nope sorry John. I don't very well know that." He turned away from John and went back to looking at the body. John felt his skin turn warm with frustration. Sherlock sensed the irritation building in the other man. "Shall I prove it to you then?"

He stood and turned back to John. John nodded and watched Sherlock gather some things off the body and Anita's bag. Before leaving the locker room he paused and looked John directly in the eye.

"You're not going to like this. Are you sure…"

"Just do it Holmes," John bit out in a tense tone. Anderson walked in at that moment with a camera to get pictures of the crime.

"Have you two finished with your lover's tiff?" Both men turned harsh gazes on him.

"Shut up Anderson," they said in unison.

* * *

><p>Sherlock strutted out onto stage, ready to give his own performance. John stood by Lestrade, crossing his arms over his chest. There was no evidence, there couldn't be but still John had to listen.<p>

"Right," began Sherlock. He dropped her bag on the stage. "A girl, an actress, ready for her big break in show biz is killed. The killer? Another inspiring actress who is jealous and envious."

"No!" called out Anita.

"You hated this girl. I heard you say so on a number of occasions. Don't deny it." Anita sat their speechless. "So two girls each wanting the lead role but only one gets it. So the other gets rid of her. Cuts her throat and shoves her in a locker to bleed out. Then as the curtain raises the killer decides to put on her own play, casting herself as the innocent witness."

"This is madness," John blurted out. "Have you lost your mind?"

Sherlock turned to look back at John. "Oh I haven't even started." He dug in Anita's bag and pulled out her makeup. "Under the girl's finger nails is traces of makeup, the very makeup that Anita used for the play. The dying girl didn't go out without a fight. She was able to get a sample of her attacker, smudging Anita's makeup."

"Of course her makeup was smudged," argued John. "She was crying!"

"Oh no John it was smudged long before that."

Anderson came walking out then, camera in hand. "Finished with the photos Lestrade. You can send…freak back in there whenever you want."

Sherlock turned on the man. "Anderson what have I told you about talking? You lower the IQ of the whole bloody country. Get out of here your face is putting me off!"

"Cheers to you too sunshine." Anderson was about to walk away when it hit Sherlock.

"Wait a minute Anderson get back here." The man paused and looked back to Sherlock. "I need you to prove my point."

"Lestrade?"

"Do as he says Anderson," commanded the Detective Inspector.

Sherlock pushed Anderson into a chair that sat on stage. He picked up the makeup and set to work. Sloppily he applied lipstick and the powder that Anita had used. Standing back he examined his work. He smiled proudly and stepped back for all to see. All the police, Lestrade, and some of the cast who were standing around burst out laughing. Even John cracked a smile.

"Yes that'll do." Sherlock walked over to a girl. "Excuse me…."

"Robin," the girl answered. Sherlock smiled at her.

"Robin love would you mind doing something for me?" He brought her over to where Anderson was. "If you could stand here…that's right just here. Good. Now I want you to slap this man right across the face."

Robin hesitated for a moment. Sherlock prompted her to continue. She brought her hand back and slapped Anderson. Sherlock examined her hand, looking under her nails. Anderson rubbed his face.

"Hmm…could you try bending your fingers a bit? Go on then, slap him again." Robin did so and allowed Sherlock to examine her nails again. "Yes that's it. Thank you very much. _That_ is how the makeup would have been smudged. We didn't notice it because we were so entranced by her performance."

"Performance?" questioned Lestrade.

"Yes playing the innocent witness," confirmed Sherlock. "She couldn't let on that she was the killer. Though I have to say by 'finding the body'…it was like she wanted to get caught." He gazed down at the girl sitting in the audience. She looked back at him with wondering eyes.

"I'm assuming there is more evidence then," Lestrade continued. Sherlock snapped too and continued.

"When I took the girl out of the locker I caught the scent of a perfume." He tossed the makeup aside and pulled out a little bottle of perfume. "I had smelled it before. The day I met Anita Watson and from then on as she came to live with us. Then I found strands of hair, brunette hair."

"So," sighed Anita, "there are a lot of girls around here with brown hair."

"That may be but this hair is yours." He set down the bottle and picked up a bag that had the hair in it. "The ends are split, singed, fried because you straighten your hair."

Lestrade hesitated at this evidence. "We'll have to test that. Can't just go off your word."

"No! You don't have to test it!" Sherlock looked around at all of them. "Do you see?" Silence. "Oh my God I'm surrounded by half brain organisms. All signs point to her! She thought she would be safe because she is the sister of our own John Watson. What she didn't count on was me."

"This is ridiculous. I've had enough." John began to head off the stage. "I'll have you uncuff her Lestrade and I am taking her home." Anita stood and waited for someone to do as her brother had said.

Sherlock jumped off stage, grabbing Lestrade's gun on his way down. Lestrade commanded for Sherlock to return his gun but was ignored. Sherlock stopped in front of her and aimed the gun. John came running up to his side.

"Holmes!"

"Confess," he said to her, ignoring John's urgent cries. Anita just stared at him in shock, her breathing becoming ragged.

"Holmes I swear to God…"

"Don't swear to someone who will never help you John," he said never looking away from Anita.

"Get that out of her face!"

"It's not in her face, it's in my hand."

"Get what's in your hand out of her face!"

He ignored John and pressed forward. "Confess Anita." She looked to John for help. "Don't look at him. Look at me and confess."

She shook her head. "I won't confess to something I didn't do."

"Confess."

"No."

He cocked the gun. "Confess."

She took in a couple deep breaths and stood her ground. "_No_."

Sherlock stared down the barrel of the gun right into her eyes. Anita filled herself with determination. She would not let this mad man make her confess for something she didn't do. Her breathing steadied and her stance grew stronger. After staring intently at each other for a long moment Sherlock pulled the gun off her.

"She didn't do it," he finally voiced.

"No shit," she sighed with a breath of relief. John gave him a befuddled look.

"But…but…" stuttered John looking between the two of them.

"Honestly John what's the matter with you?" Sherlock asked handing him the gun. "How could you think your own sister killed someone? Shame on you." Sherlock turned and grabbed the keys off the policeman and uncuffed Anita.

She rubbed her wrists as John sunk down into a seat. Anita kept her eyes on Sherlock trying to figure out what he was playing at. Sherlock winked at her, a little smile passing over him. Realization hitting her, Anita's eyes widened. She was about to speak when he gestured for her to keep quiet. She nodded.

"So she isn't the killer now?" questioned Donovan in annoyance.

"Nope," he said popping the 'p'. "Just look at her. The sister of John Watson a killer?" He gave Donovan a scoffing look. "Just because you don't get on with someone doesn't mean you're going to kill them."

"If that were the case you'd be dead ten times over," John added. Anita smirked. Sherlock gave him a surprised look.

"I would say more like a hundred times over. And I would take fifty percent responsibility," chipped in Lestrade.

"Shut up _Greg_," Sherlock said making a face.

"So you made that scene for nothing," Donovan said with a sigh. "Typical freak. Do you know how useless all this was. You do all this, make us all come out here, get all worked up and for nothing. Do you know how much time you wasted just now? I don't know why we always follow your word…"

"Oh my God do you ever shut up?" All eyes turned to Anita. Donovan raised her eyebrows.

"Sorry what did you just say?"

"Shut. It," Anita said slowly as if she were talking to a child. "Do you always bitch this much? While you stand around doing that he is gathering up evidence. Granted it was wrong evidence this time…" She looked over to Sherlock with a sour gaze.

"Look," began Donovan.

"Ah ah! Shut it. Are you always so rude to him? I mean yes he is a bit of a freak but you don't have to call him that to his face." John gazed up at his sister in awe. Was she really defending the man who had accused her of killing someone? Sherlock smirked and looked at the girl with new eyes. He had to admit that was impressive.

Donovan stood there, mouth open. The theater was quiet for a long moment.

"Uhm okay," Lestrade spoke finally. "Sherlock I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt…you had a point to all this right?"

He turned back to the Detective Inspector with a gleam in his eyes. "Of course I did. What do you take me for, a normal person?" Lestrade shrugged and gestured for him to continue. "The true killer is still here. I did all that to make them feel safe."

"Why on earth would you want them to feel safe?" John asked standing.

"So they would think they got away with it," finished Anita.

"Spot on," Sherlock said proudly.

John nodded and looked about the theater. Cast members were still clearing out of the theater, some of them talking to the police. It could be any one of them. So how to pick out the right one?

"We should clear out then," John said loudly. Sherlock gave him a puzzled look. "We have what we need for evidence. If the hair is Anita's then we'll know for sure. Just keep everything in a wolf pack."

Sherlock raised his brow in understanding. "Yes keep everything in a wolf pack. Good thinking John."

* * *

><p>The last cast member walked out of the darkened theater. Judy was in the locker room cleaning out Amy's things.<p>

"Late night." She jumped at the deep voice. Turning she smiled and released a breath of relief.

"Oh Mr. Holmes," she said with a smile. "You frightened me."

He gave her a quick smile. "Sorry. Didn't mean to frighten you. Just doing some last minute investigation."

She nodded. "I can't believe Anita would do this. She is such a sweet girl."

"Hmm as sweet as a viper apparently." Judy gave him a quick smile before returning to her task. Sherlock watched her carefully.

"Where is Anita if I may ask," Judy voiced after a moment.

"Police custody. The New Scotland Yard has it under control." Judy smiled gratefully. "Though I don't think you're worried whatsoever. Why should you be? After all you're the killer."

Judy glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Before she could bolt he slapped a cuff around her wrist.

* * *

><p>He dragged her out like a dog on a leash. One wrist in a cuff and him holding the other cuff. Knowing that she had some freedom like this, Sherlock kept a hand on the gun in his waistband. Just as they made it out to the stage the spotlight came on, blinding him. He raised his hand, taking it off the gun, to shield his eyes. Whose bright idea was this?<p>

Before he could do anything Judy twisted her arm around his neck. The chain of the cuff cut into his throat as she pulled. Sherlock scrambled to try and get free but he was losing his breath quickly. Black dots began to invade his sight. He could feel unconsciousness creeping up on him.

Then the blissful sound of doors opening reached him. John had come to the rescue.

"John," he tried to get out. Shots sounded hitting the area just around his attackers head. He was released and gasped for air as he hit the stage. He could hear Judy run for backstage. Footsteps came up onto stage towards him. Sherlock tried to block the light from his eyes so he could see. "John."

"Sorry it's the wrong Watson…again." Anita knelt by him and placed a hand on his chest. A blurry image of her came into sight. "You can thank me for saving your life later." She winked and him and took off for backstage.

Anita came around backstage but there was no sign of Judy. If she had gone out the back John would have caught her. If she had looped around to the front Lestrade would have it covered. But somehow Anita knew Judy hadn't gone anywhere. Gun at the ready she carefully made her way around. Finally she came to the locker room. Going up and down the aisles of lockers she couldn't find a trace of Judy.

Then out of the corner of her eye she saw someone bolt. Anita came around and fired off a couple shots. She cornered the director, capturing her there.

Anita shook her head. "How could you do it Judy? Amy looked up to you."

"Oh yeah? Is that what she told you?" she spat out. "Did she tell you she slept with my fiancée?" Judy nodded as if to confirm it. "I gave her the lead role to make her think everything was sorted between us, that I had forgiven her. But I got my revenge."

"Why blame it on me? What did I ever do to you?"

Judy shook her head. "I wasn't alone."

Anita took notice of Judy's gaze. She looked over Anita's shoulder to whomever helped her kill Amy. Before the other person could attack, Anita spun around and fired off a shot. Robin fell to the floor, blood gushing out of her shoulder.

"Robin?" Anita knelt down beside the girl. Just then John and some of Lestrade's men came running in.

Judy was put into handcuffs and taken out of the room. One of the police called for an ambulance upon seeing Robin's wound. John knelt by his sister, checking the girl's vitals.

"I had to," Robin said in a strained voice. Anita shook her head.

"I don't understand. You were my friend," she said in a hurt tone.

"You and Amy…I was always envious. You two always got the best parts, all the attention from the boys, even in uni I couldn't stand it. I had to…" Before she could finish Robin's eyes closed and her head lolled to the side. Anita looked to her brother in shock.

"No, no. Don't worry. She passed out from shock. She's fine," he reassured her. Anita nodded and allowed him to take her back out to the stage. There they found Sherlock sitting on the edge, legs dangling over the end.

John went to talk to the paramedics rolling Robin out while Anita plopped down next to Sherlock. She let out a sigh and rubbed the back of her neck.

"You're very good with that gun," he said after a moment. "Who taught you?"

"John did just before she shipped off," she said looking at the sidearm resting on her lap. He nodded.

"Look I uhm…I want to…that is I feel I should…" Anita looked over to him. "I know we got off on the wrong foot."

She laughed. "How did you figure that out? Was it when you insulted me? Or when you told me my profession was crap? No it was probably when you accused me of murder." She nodded. "But the best was when you aimed a gun in my face."

He sighed. There was no easy way to do this and she wasn't making it any better.

"You really thought I did it, didn't you?" He shook his head.

"No I didn't."

"Did too."

"Did not," he said looking to her.

"Did too."

"Did n…I knew you didn't. Like I said," he looked away from her, "I was trying to wean out the killer."

"By pointing a gun in my face?" He looked back to her but she looked away. "Your methods suck."

"Look I'm trying to apologize to you but you are making it _bloody_ difficult."

She smiled quickly before turning her gaze back to him. "Go on then. Let's hear it."

He hesitated, opening and closing his mouth trying to start but not sure how. "Anita I am sorry for the way I have treated you. It was simply to prove my higher intellect and fraud of the killer."

"Wow," she said after a moment. He glanced at her. "You're crap at apologies."

"I don't do it often." She laughed.

"I accept your crap apology Mr. Holmes and thank you for it." He nodded.

"Sherlock."

"What?" she asked with a furrowed brow.

"Sherlock. My friends…call me Sherlock." He turned his gaze to her. For the first time he couldn't read her expression.

"Sherlock," she said slowly, testing out the name. "Sherlock." She nodded and gave him a smile. He returned the gesture with a quick smile before taking in a breath and releasing it in a huff. Anita's smile grew wider and she began to chuckle.

"What's funny?" She laughed harder shaking her head. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just…your face when Judy jumped you." She tried to imitate the face he had made. This only caused her to laugh more.

"Stop it. It's not funny." Tears began to form and fall from her eyes. Sherlock watched her with curiosity. "Stop laughing. It's really not that funny," he said with a smirk. As she continued to laugh he found himself smiling.

"Why are you laughing?" John asked as he walked over to them. "Stop laughing this is a crime scene."

This made Sherlock and Anita only laugh more, adding to John's confusion.

**Of course the 'get what's in your hand out of my face' bit is from the Sherlock Holmes movies. Hope you like this chapter! Thanks for reviews!**


	8. Richard Brook illuminated

Anita came up the stairs. Half way up she spotted a woman standing in the living room, her back to Anita. She was glad she was only wearing socks so as to creep up on the intruder. Carefully she snuck into the living room and grabbed John's gun off the table.

Aiming the gun at the intruder she asked, "Who are you and how did you get in this flat?"

Slowly the woman turned and looked Anita up and down. "How cute, a child with a gun."

Anita cocked the gun and took a steady stance. "Answer the questions."

The woman raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. A smirk came across her velvet red lips. The woman's eyes gleamed with confidence, daring her to pull the trigger. Anita secretly wished the elegant woman would give her a reason to pull the trigger.

Sherlock and John came up the stairs just then. John mumbling how he shouldn't have to remind Sherlock about his timing. Honestly those children will be scared forever because he told them their uncle won't be a beautiful angel. Instead he will becoming a rotting, puffy corpse that will lie cold in the ground for decades.

When the two men came up the stairs and spotted the scene Sherlock trotted over to Anita.

"No, no, no Anita." He carefully took the gun out of her hands. "We don't aim guns at friends," he said as if speaking to a child who was playing with her father's gun.

Anita gave him a skeptical look. "You aimed a gun at me last week."

"Those were different circumstances. John I think the little one is trigger happy." Sherlock nodded towards Anita before nodding towards the door. John knew he was hinting for them to leave but he didn't see why he had to.

"_Little one_?" Anita said, her tone climbing in pitch. "Little one."

John guided his sister to one of the arm chairs and plopped her down. "Don't worry about it."

Sherlock sighed seeing that the Watsons were going to settle in. He turned his attention back to the woman with a smile.

"Irene, nice to see you again," he said walking a little closer to her. She looked past him to John and moved around the tall slim figure in front of her.

"Ah Doctor John Watson," she said walking over to him. He faced her and smiled.

"Nice to see you Miss Adler…fully clothed this time," he said taking in her dark green tight fitting dress.

Irene smiled wickedly at him. "I've forgotten how lovely those eyes of yours are. I miss them searching me over while in my best suit." She ran her fingertips along his cheek. Anita watched her brother blush and smile nervously.

"Oh for the love of God," Anita mumbled. She pushed herself deep into the chair, crossing her arms.

"Irene," Sherlock said trying to get her attention back. She turned to face him. "I presume this isn't a social call."

"Quite right, as always, Sherlock. Your brother sent me." His shoulders dropped and he plopped down onto the couch and stretched out. "He sent me with a message for you."

"Well you can take my brother's message with you out the door." He pointed to the exit of the flat with one of his lengthy arms. "Bye now."

Irene gave him a look. Anita watched her carefully as she made her way to the couch. She slid over him, resting a perfectly manicured hand on his high, sharp cheekbone.

"Come now Sherlock. Don't be like that." He sat up so sharply that she stumbled back. Anita didn't bother hiding her smile. John steadied the woman as she tripped on books that had been left on the floor.

"Sherlock," he sighed. John bent over to pick up the books. "What have I told you about keeping thing tiddy?"

"Yes _nanny_," Sherlock bit out as he stood and moved to the other armchair. Anita let out a little laugh making Sherlock smirk. At least she appreciated his humor…most of the time.

"You'll want to hear this message Holmes," Irene said, starting to lose her patience. "It has to deal with your arch enemy." This made both he and John perk up.

"It figures you'd have an arch enemy," Anita said sitting up a little in the chair. "Never a dull moment with you is there?"

"Never. Now Irene tell me lovely angel," he said putting on a sweet voice. "What was that message?"

"You've been so rude Sherlock…I don't think I'm going to tell you." She gave him a quick smile before heading for the door. He watched her in shock that she was actually going to leave. He jumped up and in one stride cut her off before she could leave the living room.

"Irene, goddess of my life," he said taking her hand in his. Anita made a gagging sound. John laughed and tossed a pillow at her. "I will take you to dinner if you tell me the message."

She thought it over and finally answered, "Not hungry."

"I'll buy you a new ridding crop to use on your clients," he thought up quickly. She smiled.

"Are you trying to bribe me?" She ran a hand along his suit lapels. "There are other ways to do that."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows. He looked over her shoulder to where the Watson siblings were watching, one in curiosity and the other in disgust. He turned his gaze back to her.

"You can make me beg for my life." This caught her interest. "Twice."

Irene nodded and went back into the living room. She sat on the couch while Sherlock stood in front of her. He shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for her to share her wisdom.

"He's back," she said simply. Sherlock looked back at John with interest. "And he wants you Sherlock. He wants you to suffer."

John let out a laugh. "What's new? Hasn't he got a new game?"

Sherlock pulled one hand out of his pocket and ran it along his face. "That was only round one John. He lost round one. I'd imagine he is rather sour about that."

Irene nodded. "More than you think."

Sherlock smirked. "Good."

Irene gave him a surprised look. "I would really be careful Sherlock. Moriarty is a force to be reckoned with. I should know."

He looked to her sharply. How had he missed this before? Faint bruises were visible on her fair skin, a cut on her lip was healing (the red lipstick hiding it nicely), signs of a black eye were still noticeable.

"My God," John said coming over to her. He sat and looked her over, gently turning her face this way and that. "He did this to you?"

She shook her head. "Not directly. You know how he works…"

"Through others," finished Sherlock. "Of course…'I don't like to get my hands dirty'."

John shivered upon hearing the words. Remembering that night was not fun. Being shoved into the jacket, forced to say Moriarty's words, having hundreds of snipers take aim at him and Sherlock. That night put him off going to pools for a lifetime.

"Oh," Sherlock said in a low whisper. "Oh! It's begun."

John looked to him. "What has?"

Sherlock looked to him, tilting his head. "Don't you see John?" No response. "No of course you don't. What it must be like not to be me. Always relaxed, not a care in the world. Moriarty's round two! It's started," he said excitedly.

"How?" asked Anita.

"Your play. That's when round two started. The death of Amy and the framing of you for her death." Sherlock jumped in the air with joy. "Oh it's Christmas!"

John gave him a chastising look. "Sherlock…timing."

"Dash your timing John! We have something to keep us busy, puzzles to solve, a game to play."

Irene stood and walked around to Sherlock. "Well my work is done. I'll be calling you to make you beg." She winked at him and headed for the door. "Walk me out Sherlock?"

* * *

><p>Anita watched them walk out the door to the stairs. Once they were down on the first floor she jumped up from her chair and ran to the banister to listen in. John watched his sister curiously.<p>

"Will you be alright by yourself? You're welcome to stay here. At least until Moriarty cools his rage for whatever you did." Anita shook her head. Why did he have to offer her a place to stay?

"No, no," came Irene's voice. Anita smiled with relief. The front door opened and a pause came. "Walk me out to the car?"

Hearing the front door close, Anita ran back into the living room, jumping over the table to the window. John moved to the desk and sat while Anita gazed down at the street from the window.

"What are you doing Eva?" he asked bringing up his laptop.

"Nothing," she said distractedly. She watched as Irene and Sherlock talked a little longer. Irene was smiling but I didn't look like he was.

"You're spying on them aren't you?" he said looking at her over his laptop.

"Spying is such a dirty word John." She looked over her shoulder to him. "I prefer casually watching. I don't trust her that much." John shook his head.

Irene stretched up and kissed Sherlock. Anita turned away from the window and, stepping over the table, plopped onto the couch.

"Who's this Moriarty guy again?" she asked after a moment.

"The greatest criminal mastermind. He is the crazy psychopath that is in love with Sherlock. These two are made for each other."

"How do you mean?"

John sighed and thought. "Well they both need to have distractions. They get bored, Sherlock says because that's what happens when an overactive mind goes dormant. They are like positive and negative."

She nodded. "He's the one who almost blew you up right? Which blog was it….the Great Game right?"

"That's the one." John thought for a moment. "I wonder…"

Anita stood and walked over to where he was. "What is it?"

John brought up the site for the hospital. He searched through some locked documents he had hacked into. These led him to the personnel files.

"Molly said she met him in IT, that that was where he worked. I wonder if he ever really did _work_ there." John scrolled through the files on the employees. "Ah there he is."

Anita felt herself go numb as the picture of James, Jim, Moriarty came up. A cold sweat ran down her back as her vision began to blur. She could feel her legs giving out under her and prayed she would hit the ground softly.

"Anita!"

* * *

><p>"Will you be alright by yourself? You're welcome to stay here. At least until Moriarty cools his rage for whatever you did." They stopped just at the door.<p>

"No, no," she said with a kind smile. He nodded and opened the door for her. Irene looked up the stairs, knowing that the little Watson girl was listening. "Walk me out to the car?"

Sherlock gestured for her to go out first. He followed after her, closing the door behind him. A black car was waiting for her just in front of the flat. She paused before turning to get into the car.

"Well Sherlock I look forward to making you beg." He gave her a quick nod. Irene still felt the slightly jealous eyes of Anita on them. "I think you have an admirer."

He gave her a curious look. "Really? And who might that be?"

"Come off it mister detective. You know who I mean." He played coy and didn't answer. "Think really hard."

Finally he gave in. "You mean Anita." She nodded making him laugh. "You need to learn how to read people."

"Oh trust me pet, I read her loud and clear. Why can't you see it? You read people within seconds, can't you see it in her?" She laughed. "It's kinda cute actually. A little crush on her brother's mate."

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed.

"You know what's ridiculous? The fact that you in turn have feelings for her as well. And don't say 'She's John's sister of course I care for her'." She looked him up and down. "You have romantic feelings."

"That _is_ ridiculous and completely untrue. I think your car is waiting Miss Adler." He gestured for her to go. She smiled at him and let out a laugh. "What now?"

"Will you do something for me? Kiss her Holmes. I want you to kiss her and see how it compares to my kiss." Before he could say anything she stretched up and kissed him. Leaving him dumbfounded Irene got into the car.

He turned and went directly back into the flat. Slowly he made his way back upstairs until he heard a thud.

"Anita!" called John. Sherlock took the stairs two at a time till he reached the sitting room. Anita lay on the floor, John bent over her.

* * *

><p>Irene got into the car, a smile still on her features.<p>

"Well?" he asked as Irene settled into her seat.

"Sherlock is ready for round two. He believed the bruises."

"Why shouldn't he?" he asked in a low tone. "They're real. What else?"

"I spied on your little pet for you," she answered adjusting herself in the car. "She is still blissfully unaware of who and what you really are."

He nodded. "Good."

Irene looked over at him and let out a laugh. "Other than the fact that she is Watson's sister…what interest do you have in her?"

"Don't worry about it."

"I don't understand what you see in her."

He looked over to her with a cold gaze. "It doesn't matter what you understand. All that matters is that Anita is unaware of things."

Irene shook her head. "I don't believe you've fallen for this girl. It's a waste of time."

"Why's that?"

"She's starting to fancy Sherlock." His jaw tightened. "And I think he is starting to fancy her."

"You _think_ or you _know_?" he bit out. Irene looked to him.

"I've read the signs. You might lose your little sweetie."

She watched his hands tighten into fists. "Well then, it looks like the game Sherlock and I are playing will have to have a permanent end."

Irene shook her head and laughed. "You're letting your heart rule over you. Big mistake Jim."

He looked at her, head tilted, deep brown eyes searching. "You preach and preach Irene but you're a hypocrite." He held up her mobile. She looked to find her purse, which had been by her side one moment to in his possession the next, open.

"Give it back," she bit out.

"You think my heart rules me….but yours…" He began typing a code into her phone. "You might as well wear it on your sleeve." He held up the phone to show her the code to unlock her phone. Irene went sheet white. "Shall we find more proof?" He scrolled through her pictures. "Oh my, my, my we have been a busy stalker. Look at this. Sherlock Holmes galore."

She snatched her mobile away from him. Jim caught her wrist with one hand and cupped her face with the other. Irene winced, her skin was still tender from the beating his men had given her at the start of the week.

"Don't play with me Irene. You'll always lose," he whispered in a harsh tone. "Understood?" She nodded as best she could. He released her and settled back into his seat. "Drive on," he instructed.

* * *

><p>Sherlock paced nervously as John patted her forehead with a damp cloth.<p>

"Maybe we shouldn't have moved her," John said after a moment. Sherlock stopped pacing and looked at the man.

"You're the doctor John! You said it was better if we moved her off the floor."

"I know! I know…I just…"

Then, suddenly, her eyes opened. She shot up into a sitting position.

"Oh God!" A horrified look came to her face. "OhmyGod! It's him! He's…and I…oh Lord. I saw him. He was right there and…I flirted with him! I hugged him too. Oh…I…hugged him. _Him!_" She gasped and clapped a hand over her moth. "I snogged him!" came her muffled voice.

John and Sherlock exchanged confused looks. "Who Anita?"

"Richard Brook," she said angrily. She picked up a pillow and buried her face.

"Who is Richard Brook?"

"Richard Brook," John thought the name over. "Richard…hold on. Isn't that the bloke you were telling me about?" She nodded.

"You're dating someone?" Sherlock asked feeling taken aback.

"Don't be so surprised. She is twenty three after all."

"Yeah but she…never mind." Sherlock plopped down in his chair. If she fancied him then why was she going out with the Richard Brook chap? John felt double the confinement. Why was Sherlock acting like this and what did Richard Brook have to do with anything?

"You two don't get it do you?" she asked bringing her face out of the pillow.

"Get what?" questioned John.

She paused and tried to find the right words. "The man you know….as James Moriarty…is Richard Brook."

Sherlock sat to attention. "What?"

Letting out a breath she spoke again. "James Moriarty and Richard Brook are the same person."

"You mean to tell me," began John," the bloke you've been sexting for four weeks was Moriarty?"

"It's not sexting John!" She paused and made a face. "I can't believe you just said sexting."

"You didn't know it was him? Oh Anita…" John put his head in his hands. Anita looked from him to Sherlock with wide innocent eyes.

"I'd never seen him before! I Googled him for crying out loud!"

"And what did you find?" Sherlock pressed.

"Everything! Where Richard Brook was born, his parents, his home town, his career! He has a children's TV show."

Sherlock thought things over. "He's taken on a fake life. Just so he could slip through, right by me undetected." He chuckled. "Oh that's clever. Even more so because he got you to fall for him."

Anita buried her face into the pillow.

"Very clever," Sherlock said again. "Well the game is on…but the problem is…we are ten steps behind."


	9. A mundane life

221 B Baker Street was just in sight. She bolted across the street, cars screeching to a stop. Desperately she knocked on the door, praying someone was there to open it. Looking over her shoulder she could see the two men coming out of the alley. They spotted her and began making their way towards her. She banged on the door again.

Finally it opened and revealed Anita. Irene scrambled in and shut the door behind her, locking it. Anita stood there confused. Irene turned and attached herself to the girl. Anita stumbled back a bit as Irene hugged her gratefully. Her brow furrowed as the elegant woman held onto her. Before Anita could ask any questions a force hit the door.

The two women jumped at the sound. Irene looked back to Anita with desperate eyes.

"Oh what the hell?" Anita said looking to her. "Moriarty's men?"

Irene nodded. "I didn't know where else to go." Another force hit the door causing them to jump again.

"_Really_?"

"Anita please!" Anita felt a little shocked at how scared Irene looked. Just the other day she had a gun pointed in her face and she didn't even wince. But now….Another force hit the door, almost breaking it off the hinges. One more hit and they would be inside.

Anita grabbed Irene's hand and pulled her up the stairs. They barely hit the third step when the door burst open. One of the men grabbed Irene's leg, pulling her down. Anita kept her grip on Irene's hand while she kicked herself free. The two made it up to the living room slamming the door shut, but the men pushed their way through.

The two women let go of each other and separated. The men split as well, one taking Anita and the other Irene. Anita tried to prepare herself for the fight, remembering what John had taught her. She ducked and dodged here and there but still caught a few blows. Finally she got the upper hand. She had gotten herself into the kitchen and grabbed one of Sherlock's experiments. Throwing the chemicals in the man's face to blur his vision, she jumped up head butted him. He stumbled back and went crashing to the floor.

Anita put a hand to her head, feeling a slight dizziness come over her. She looked over to see if Irene needed help. Irene had the man on his knees. She grabbed the skull off the mantle and hit him in the head with it. Both women grabbed the guns of the intruders.

They looked to each other, Irene smiled.

"Girl power," she said with a little laugh. Anita joined her and smiled. She picked up her mobile and began to dial. "What are you doing?"

"Calling my brother," she answered bringing the phone to her ear. It rang a couple times before the answering machine picked up.

"This is John Watson. Wasn't able to answer. Leave a message and…"

She hung up and tried to call again but the voice mail picked up again. "Damnit John." Scrolling through her contacts she found Sherlock's number.

**Need help ASAP! **

**AW**

"Something is wrong," Anita said looking for another number in her phone.

Irene gave her a look. "It's only been five minutes."

"I know. Sherlock always responds in two." She pressed the phone back to her ear. "Lestrade is my brother there? I need him." Pause. "What? Why are they in jail?" Pause. "Sherlock did what?" Pause. "Well get them out I need them." Pause. "Tomorrow morning?" She sighed. "Look we've just had a break in. I need my brother! I'm emotionally traumatized."

Irene gave her an impressed look and waited for Anita to continue. Anita nodded as Lestrade spoke.

"Look fine just send the bobbies over." Irene's eyes went wide. "Yeah it's just me here…well and the intruders." Pause. "Yeah okay. Just tell John and Sherlock what happened." She clicked the phone shut.

"The fuzz are coming here? Are you mad?"

Anita checked to see if the men were still properly knocked out. She didn't want them waking up until Lestrade's men were there.

"Look I didn't mention you to Lestrade. Just go hide out in my place while they do their thing." Anita took the gun out of Irene's hand and wiped it clean. "They won't even know you're here."

She placed the gun back on the man who attacked Irene.

* * *

><p>A team was there in no time. Donovan came along to ask questions.<p>

"Hello Anita," Sally said casually. "Anything taken during the break in?"

"Besides me sense of security? No." Donovan nodded and looked about the flat. Papers were all over the desk, pillows were scrunched up on the couch and chairs, the skull lay on the floor where Irene had dropped it.

Two policemen lifted the intruders up and took them out of the flat. Donovan took the two large men in.

"You took on both of them?" she asked pointing to the muscular men. Sally looked back to Anita, small in comparison to the men. "You? All by yourself?"

Anita nodded. "My brother is a soldier. He taught me how to fight."

Sally nodded. "Speaking of your brother and the freak…" Anita narrowed her eyes at the detective. "…Sherlock," Sally corrected herself. "They send their regards."

"Lestrade told me Sherlock and John threw a…mannequin off Tower bridge." Sally nodded.

"That's right. The psychopath and his doctor decided it would be a good idea in the middle of noon traffic. Someone called them in and Lestrade had to pick them up." Sally shook her head. "I think we should keep them there for a week but Lestrade just wants to make an example out of them."

"Keep them there for a week? Are you mad? They've been gone for three hours and look what's happened," she said gesturing to the cops in the flat. "Keep them there for a week and all hell will break lose Donovan."

The two women looked at each other sourly. Finally Sally gave in.

"Right ladies and gentlemen," she called out to the cops. "We have all we need. Clear out."

The police began to head out, Donovan going out last. Anita gave her a patronizing smile and wave as she left. Hearing the cars pull away Anita relaxed and let out a sigh. She ran a hand through her hair and began to pick things up. She placed Sherlock's 'friend' back on the mantle before trying to organize the desk. Irene came up the stairs and into the room.

"That Donovan is a bit of a cow," Irene said helping Anita. She laughed and nodded.

"Oh dear," they heard from downstairs. "Oh my door," came Mrs. Hudson's voice. "Anita! Sherlock! John!"

"I'm here Mrs. Hudson!" The older woman came up the stairs with grocery bags. Upon seeing the girl she dropped the bags and came bustling in.

"Are you alright darling?" She cupped Anita's face like a grandmother would do. "I saw the cops just now. Are you hurt? What's happened to the door?"

"I'm fine Mrs. Hudson. Just a break in," she said as if it were a normal thing. "Lestrade was nice enough to suggest someone who can fix it. They'll pop round later this afternoon."

Mrs. Hudson smiled with relief. "Oh how nice of him. Dear me…where is John and Sherlock? I bet this has to do with them. Those naughty boys always getting into trouble."

Anita smiled. "They've been detained for a bit. They'll be round tomorrow."

"Alright dear…oh…who's this?" she asked taking notice of Irene.

"Irene Adler," she said offering her hand to the woman.

"She is a friend of John and Sherlock," Anita added.

"Came over as soon as I heard what happened." She walked over to Anita and put an affectionate arm around the girl. "Got worried about our little Ani."

Anita resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Mrs. Hudson said how glad she was to meet Irene and how lucky Anita was to have a good friend. Picking up her groceries she headed for the kitchen and put some things away.

"Mrs. Hudson can we have some tea to calm the nerves?" Anita asked. She flopped into a chair, Irene followed and took the other chair.

"Just this one love. Not your house keeper."

"And some sandwiches would be nice too," she added flipping on the telly. Mrs. Hudson came out of the kitchen with premade sandwiches she had picked up.

As she set down the plate she said, "_Not_ your house keeper."

Anita gave the woman a smile and passed a sandwich to Irene. Irene sat there and observed. So this was what regular life was like. Sitting around eating sandwiches for tea, watching telly, just…living. How mundane.

**Thanks for reviews! Glad you like this so far =)**


	10. Kiss the girl

**Okay so all of you need to see some amazing Sherlock vids. Go to youtube and type in 007 is also gonna die || Sherlock. After you watch that one type in I'm gonna fight 'em off (Jim Moriarty) Sherlock BBC. No regrets…**

**Richard Brook**

The name stared back at her on her contacts list. Anita sat curled up in John's armchair in front of a warm fire. She had been sitting there for two hours staring at the name. Clicking the screen the options came up.

**Edit Contact **

**Add Number **

**Save Contact **

**Delete Contact **

She scrolled down to **Delete Contact**. Hesitating she began to think. How was it possible that Richard Brook, the sweet and funny actor, could be the same person as Jim Moriarty, the psychotic and demented mastermind? It didn't make sense to her at all. But life never made sense did it?

"I'd get rid of it," came a voice behind her. Anita turned to see Irene in a pair of Sherlock's boxers and one of his undershirts. Makeup removed and hair down she looked like a totally new person. "But then again it doesn't really matter. He has your number."

She sat in the chair opposite Anita, Sherlock's chair. Anita felt a pang run through her. This woman needed to stop touching Sherlock's things. Turning her attention back to her mobile, Anita pressed delete with force. As if it would completely erase the false man from her life. Anita sighed, feeling a weight lift off her. She tucked her phone away and looked over to see Irene pick up Sherlock's violin.

She _really_ needed to stop touching his stuff.

"I wouldn't if I were you," Anita said as Irene strummed the strings.

"Why not?" She kept up with her strumming.

Anita readjusted in the chair. "One time Mrs. Hudson moved it to dust and he nearly curled up in a ball and cried in the corner."

Irene raised her brow and set the instrument back down. "So tell me," she said conversationally. "Has Jim put you off acting for good?"

Anita shook her head. "No. I just…need to get myself back out there. The Little Tudor Theater kinda booted me out."

"But you didn't kill that girl." Anita gave Irene a look. How did she know about it? Irene held up a newspaper close by. Headline read: Local theater experiences death.

She nodded. "Yeah that doesn't seem to matter," she said with a laugh.

Irene thought for a moment. "Well I know of another theater. They are desperate for actresses. I could always put a word in…"

Anita looked to her surprised. "You…you would do that?" Irene nodded. "Really?"

She laughed. "Don't act so surprised. I can be nice when the mood strikes."

"Right…well uhm…thanks." Anita nodded and smiled. "Thank you very much."

Irene stood from the chair. "I'll call first thing tomorrow."

She gave Anita a little smile before walking towards the door. Anita turned in her chair.

"Where…where are you staying?" Irene, back still to the girl, smirked.

"Sherlock's room," she answered simply. Irene turned to face Anita. "That doesn't bother you does it?"

Anita made a face and shook her head. "No of course not."

Ah there it was. That jealous gleam in her eyes. Irene could see it a mile away. Her tone was drowning in hidden annoyance. Posture was ridged, shoulders squared. So she had hit a nerve had she? Good. Irene said good night once again and headed for the bedroom. Immediately she got her mobile and reported the jealous findings to Jim along with the theater plans.

**I'm setting her up at The Queen's Court Theater. You'll be able to find her there. Feelings for Holmes are present and growing. **

**The Woman **

A few minutes later her mobile beeped.

**Thank you my little soldier spy. **

**JM**

Irene climbed into the bed, tucked the mobile under the pillow, and settled in.

* * *

><p>John and Sherlock came bounding up the stairs.<p>

"She wasn't in her room," John said with a little worry. "I'm going to check my room." He went up the second set of stairs while Sherlock went into the living room.

There he found Anita fast asleep in the armchair, legs dangling over the side. She looked so peaceful he hated to move her too far and wake her. Gently he scooped her up in his arms. He carried her over to the couch and lay her down. He got a blanket and placed it over her.

"She wasn't there Sherlock," John said coming down the stairs. "I don't…"

"Shh John." He nodded to Anita on the couch. John came in and saw his sister. A look of relief came over him.

John walked in and sat on the table in front of the couch. He ran a hand over her hair. Anita stirred and woke.

"John you're home." She sat up and hugged him.

He hugged her back. "Didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."

"What time is it?"

"Five in the morning," answered Sherlock.

"I'm totally awake," she yawned making John laugh.

"What happened Anita?" Sherlock asked. She looked up to him, heart jumping a little at seeing his vivid blue eyes on her.

"Moriarty's men. They were after Irene. She is here," she answered nodding towards the stairs. "She's in your room." She watched as Sherlock went to the stairs, heart dropping a little.

"Are you alright?" John asked getting her attention back to him. "Did they hurt you?"

She shook her head. "No we handled it. Lestrade sent his guys over," she said scratching her head and yawning.

John gave her a puppy dog look. "Yeah sorry we weren't here. I should have been here to protect you."

"Aww that's sweet big bro. But I'm a big girl, had it sorted." She gave him a smile before recalling something. "Hold on…what were you two doing with a mannequin on Tower Bridge?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah…that. Well remember that case Sherlock was working on? The bloke who said his girlfriend ran him over? We needed to check the blood splatter to see if he was lying. So we got a mannequin, filled it with jam, and tossed it over."

Anita laughed. "And you actually went along with it?"

John's brow furrowed. "At the time it seemed like a good thing to do." This made her laugh more causing John to smile.

* * *

><p>Sherlock came into his room and found The Woman fast asleep, or so he thought. As he was about to walk out of the room he heard her voice.<p>

"You don't have to go." He turned to see her, eyes were still closed and looking peaceful.

"Didn't mean to wake you." Irene finally opened her eyes. "I'll be downstairs."

"Sherlock," she said stopping him again. "Everything alright? Heard you were in prison."

He walked over and sat on the bed next to her. "Everything is fine. Just idiots of the world trying to lock up my genius. "Heard you had a run in with Moriarty's men."

She sat up and nodded. "Apparently Jim felt the massage of bruises wasn't enough. Would it be alright for me to stay on a bit?"

He nodded. "Course. Whatever you need."

"Have you done it yet?"

"Done what?"

Irene raised an eyebrow. "Guess not." Sherlock gave her a questioning look. "I told you to kiss her Holmes. Remember?"

He stood and shook his head. "I'm not kissing her Irene."

"Never say never," she said as he moved towards the door. "Or is it that you're bothered?" He turned back to face her.

"Look at my face, do I look bothered?"

"Deep down you are."

"Deep down I'm not. Why should I be bothered?"

Irene smirked. "Because Jim kissed her first."

Sherlock felt his stomach drop. True he hated how Moriarty had played poor Anita but that didn't mean he was jealous or anything. Even if he was, he would never show it.

"Go back to sleep Irene." Before she could say more he walked out, closing the door behind him. Irene wouldn't have it. She got up and followed him down.

John and Anita were in the kitchen starting to make some breakfast.

"Thought we could have a nice sit down for breakfast," John said mixing up a batter of pancakes. Anita began to clear the table of papers and Sherlock's test tubes.

"I might have ruined one of your experiments," she said as Sherlock came into the kitchen. He shook his head.

He looked her over, seeing a little bruise from where she had head butted the intruder. He pulled back her hair to see the damage. She held still and allowed him to look.

"It's fine. It obviously kept you safe."

"It _helped_ keep me safe. I did the rest." She looked up at him with a smile. "I'm a tough bird."

Sherlock smirked. "Aren't you just?"

Irene watched with bated breath as the two got closer to each other. Sherlock and Anita didn't even notice they had been leaning towards each other. Sherlock felt Irene's words ring through his head to kiss her. A part of him did want to kiss her and had thought about it. He thought about kissing her the day he cornered her in the kitchen.

She wasn't backing away from him so maybe it was still possible that she felt the same. They were inches away from each other, eyes beginning to slip closed. When John turned and noticed the scene, the smile slipped from his face.

"I hated it," he blurt out. Anita turned away just before Sherlock to take the final step. Irene's shoulders slumped as she set a glare upon John.

"You hated what?" asked Anita.

"You asked me what I thought of that bloke's performance in Hamlet. I hated it."

Anita gave him a look. "John…I asked you that two years ago."

He nodded. "Yeah. I know and I'm answering it."

He nodded again before turning back to the cooking. Anita stood there feeling confused. Why had he blurted that out just now? A night in jail must have been worse than she thought. Turning back she was disappointed to not find Sherlock standing by her. He had gone up the stairs to clean up and get a fresh pair of clothes.

"Speaking of acting," Irene said still giving John the look of death. "I've called the theater. They got the rights to Wicked and are looking for an Elphaba. You have an audition this afternoon."

Anita stood there speechless so John spoke for her.

"Wow. That's…amazing. How did you…"

"I have connections," she answered. Anita jumped for joy. She ran over to Irene and hugged her tightly.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She kissed Irene's cheek before dancing around the living room.

* * *

><p>"You really nailed it today," said Tommy after practice. The cast packed up their things for the day, ready to head out. "Good job Anita."<p>

"Thanks Tom," she said with a smile. She grabbed her bag and packed up her things. "Looking forward to our onstage kiss."

He smiled back at her. "Same here love." He kissed her cheek. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah laters."

As she headed out of the theater her phone beeped.

**85 South Jackson Street. Come if convenient**

**SH **

Anita shook her head and ignored the massage. As she headed for the bus stop it beeped again. With a sigh she took the phone out.

**If inconvenient come anyway**

**SH **

She waited till she was on the bus to send a message back.

**I've been at the theater for hours. Going home. Sod off. **

**AW**

She was half way home when her phone beeped for a third time. Shaking her head, she made a promise to herself not to look at the message. She would not answer him. Whatever it was would just have to wait. A fourth beep nagged at her to answer the massage. Grumbling to herself she took the mobile out and looked at his replies.

**Anita…I need you**

**SH **

**Please**

**SH **

"He needs me?" Her heart thumped a little harder at that thought. After thinking it over for a moment she took notice of the Jackson Street stop coming up. Making up her mind she got off the bus.

Making her way down to 85 Jackson she saw Sherlock waiting for her on the sidewalk.

"You came," he said as she reached him.

"Of course I came. You said you needed me." She shrugged. "So here I am."

He gave her a smile just as a taxi pulled up. Irene stepped out looking…well not like her. Instead of an expensive dress suit, she was wearing a sundress that looked like something her mother wore out to Sunday brunch. Her hair was down, a little messy, and no makeup. Had the world turned upside down?

"You're sure this is the spot?" asked The Woman as she walked up to them.

Sherlock looked offended. "Of course I'm sure. I'm not a mundane normal creature. No offense Anita." She glared at him in response.

"Anita," Irene said taking notice of the girl. "Hear the play is going well."

"Yeah it is," she answered quickly. "Sorry does someone want to tell me what the blooming hell is going on? Why are we standing in front of a house that's for sale?" She nodded towards the sign that had been posted in front of the house.

"We have a lead," Sherlock answered turning towards the house.

"A lead on who?"

Just then a woman came out of the house. "Ah hello there! You must be the Williams family." The woman came down to greet them.

"That's right," Sherlock said shaking her hand. "I am David, this is my wife Becky."

Irene stepped up with a sweet smile. "Hello pleasure to meet you. This is our daughter Charlie."

Irene put a loving arm around Anita, hugging her close to her side.

"Well it is lovely to meet such a wonderful family," the woman said. "I think you will like this house. Shall we go in for a tour?"

"That would be lovely, wouldn't it David?"

"Certainly would Becky. Lead the way."

The woman began to head back towards the house with Irene following her. Anita stopped Sherlock, holding him back so she could talk to him.

"What is this? Who have you got a lead on?"

Sherlock looked to Irene and the woman going into the house and then back to Anita. "This is part of the game. Moriarty is sending me clues, parts to the puzzle. We are closer to finding him with every step."

"Right." Anita turned away from him and walked to the curb of the street. "Taxi!"

"No, no, no, no. What are you doing?" She raised her arm to hail a cab but Sherlock tried to push it back down.

"You lied. You don't need me. At least not in the way I thought," she added under her breath. "You have Irene to help you so I'm going home."

Sherlock came round in front of her. "Don't leave Anita. I do need you."

"It doesn't matter. I want nothing to do with Jim Moriarty." She raised her hand again. "Taxi!"

"Anita do you really think I would let him hurt you?" She didn't answer. "Do you trust me?" Thinking for a moment she opened her mouth to speak. "You hesitate, don't answer. Look I need you because he has been sending me clues and the only way I can get this next clue is in this house. The real-estate woman wouldn't show it to a couple without a kid."

She sighed. "So I have to be your kid? That's weird on a number of different levels."

"Will you do it," he asked with hope. Anita let out a sigh.

"David, Charlie," called Irene. "Come along slow pokes!"

"Coming mum," Anita called back. Sherlock gave her a grateful smile.


	11. Riddles and clues

**Did you guys watch the vids? Did you like them? Cause I have a couple more for you to see. Jim &Sherlock| O'Death and Sherlock -2x3-This Is War. **

As they walked up to the house, Sherlock pulled out his mobile.

"Look," he said holding it in front of her. "He's been texting me clues."

Anita took his phone and looked at the messages. "These are from Mycroft…who is Mycroft?"

"My brother."

"Hold on Moriarty is your brother?" Sherlock let out a sound of frustration.

"No Anita! C'mon think. I know you are more brilliant than you look. Impress me."

She sighed and looked at the messages again. "Alright so these messages are from your brother. But you're saying they are from Moriarty."

'Father and daughter' finally came into the house. Irene and the real-estate agent were waiting for them in the foyer. Irene walked over to Sherlock and linked arms with him.

"Darling what do you think of the house?" she asked sweetly.

Sherlock looked around. "Oh yes. Lovely. Just lovely. I can see our little tikes growing up here."

"Oh are you planning to have more children?" asked the real-estate woman.

Sherlock smiled down at Irene. "Oh yes. We found parenthood suits us nicely."

He put and arm around Anita and kissed her head. She looked up at him with a mixture of awe and surprise. Sherlock instructed for the tour to start and told his 'wife' to make the decision, after all it was to be her home. While the two women began to walk about, Sherlock and Anita followed behind, staying at a distance so they could talk.

Sherlock felt Anita's eyes on him. "What?"

"That's weird." He gave her an inquisitive look. "You being human…."

He brought his arms behind his back, holding his wrist with the other hand. "I'm acting. Thought you'd appreciate it."

"That's not acting, that's spooky. Can you always switch it on and off like that?"

"Yes I can. And it is acting, you should know. You switch off and on all the time when you take on a new character in each play." He smirked at her. "I'm just better at it than you."

"Thanks for rubbing it in my face _dad_." She looked over at him and took in what he was wearing. "Are…are you in jeans?"

He looked down at himself. "Yes, I am. Why?"

She stood back and took in his outfit. Why hadn't she noticed it before? Instead of his usual suit he was in a pair of jeans, Chucks, a t-shirt, and a casual blazer. It was strange to see him out of his suit, coat, and scarf look.

Anita shook her head. "Nothing. You look…fine." Fit was the first word that came to her mind but she fought it back.

"What else have you deduced from the messages? I'm still waiting to be impressed daughter."

Anita turned her attention back to his phone. Alright, so the messages were from Mycroft but they were clues from Moriarty. So what had she learned about Jim Moriarty? Think, think, think…what had John and Sherlock said about him?

"Well he always works through other people. Like you said, 'I don't like to get my hands dirty'. So he is working through Mycroft but…"

Sherlock glanced over at her. "But…"

She pursed her lips in thought. Sherlock found his eyes being drawn to those lips. But his gaze was broken when Irene came over to them.

"David darling wouldn't this make an exquisite office for you?" she asked with a tense smile. Sherlock looked to the room they had stopped at.

"Oh it's perfect. Good eye my dove," he said putting on his human act. As the real-estate woman went into a rant about the room Irene moved closer to them to talk without being heard.

"Please tell me you've found something," she said dropping the cutesy smile."My face is beginning to ache from this idiotic smile."

Sherlock looked at her closely. "Oh yes. I think…I'm starting to see laugh lines." He chuckled as she hit his chest. "Don't worry we are working on it."

"Well work faster," she bit out. "This woman is driving round the bend."

Anita smiled as a wicked idea popped into her head. "Hey mum weren't you saying you wanted to see the kitchen?" she asked loud enough for the real-estate woman to hear. "Didn't you want a double oven to do baking in?"

The real-estate woman turned with a light gleaming in her eyes. "Oh you bake?"

"Yeah my mum makes the best birthday cake ever. And she does all the cooking for Christmas, makes a splendid turkey dinner." Anita gave a loving smile to Irene who looked back at the girl with an intense hatred. "Best mum ever."

"Oh how wonderful," said the real-estate woman. "This home actually does have a double oven. If you'll follow me…we should exchange recipes."

"Yes that sounds wonderful," Irene said putting her aching smile back into place. Before following the woman to the kitchen she turned back to Anita. "This is the thanks I get for getting you that job at the theater?"

"Oh come now darling," Sherlock said still in his human act. "Our little one was just having a laugh. Now go on, double ovens and what not. Off you go."

Irene grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to her. "I'm going to make you beg for your life three times now. But the third won't be because of pleasure."

She released him and headed in the direction the other woman had gone. Sherlock turned back to Anita.

"As you were saying?"

"Right yeah so Moriarty is working through Mycroft but Mycroft doesn't even know it."

Sherlock smiled. "Good. What else?"

"Uhm…there are ten cases of poisonings." Her brow furrowed as she looked through the message. "This has happened before…but last time it was four people. He's done this before?"

Sherlock unlocked his hands from behind his back. They were now palm to palm in front of his mouth, as he so often did while thinking. "Mmm. He is repeating himself. Why? Why would he do that?"

Anita shrugged. "Cause he is insane."

"More than that."

"He's bored. He wants to get caught." Sherlock's eyes lit up.

"Yes. Oh that's it." He jumped for joy. "Oh happy birthday to me!"

"You shouldn't be this happy. It's not decent."

"Oh who cares about decent? He is doing the same thing to distract me, to confuse me." He paced in front of her as he put things together. "But he's slipped up. If he wanted to repeat himself then why did he start with the murder at the theater? Anything else you deduce?"

"That you look fit in those jeans," she said more to herself rather than him. She couldn't fight it back anymore.

He stopped pacing and looked to her. "Hmm? I didn't catch that."

She took in a breath of courage. "I said you look good in jeans. They're…fit on you."

Sherlock looked down at what he was wearing. "You're talking about my clothing? Anita we have deaths to figure out and clues to solve." She let out a laugh. "What now?"

She shook her head and answered, "I just made a pass at you and you didn't even notice." He looked at her with innocent blue eyes. "You're the cleverest man but you don't even notice the littlest hints."

He looked at her feeling stunned. At that moment he felt bad, just like he did when Molly called him out. He hated it when Molly called him out on being a jerk, it always made him feel too human and horrible. That was how he felt now looking at Anita.

His hands dropped to his side as he took a couple steps towards her. Right then there was a knock on the front door of the house. Sherlock and Anita looked to each other before heading for the foyer. The real-estate woman was still in the process of showing Irene the ovens and yaking away about recipes.

Sherlock opened the door to find a postman standing there. He held out a letter to Sherlock.

"For you Mr. Holmes," he said urging Sherlock to take it.

Sherlock looked at the letter and accepted it. "Who's it from?"

The postman said nothing and walked off. Closing the door, Sherlock opened the letter. Two notes came tumbling out. Anita stood by as he unfolded one of them.

"Glad you know how to read _my_ hints Sherlock," he read out. "But hints aren't enough are they? Let's make this game a little more fun. You've found the house, well done you. But have you found the riddles? I've given you the first one….don't disappoint me."

Anita took the second note and unfolded it. The page had one line of writing in the center of it.

"I am the room where everyone lives all at once," she read out. "Right then. Better get to work." Sherlock reached for the note in her hand. She kept it out of his reach. "Nope you get to play husband. I'll be the detective for now."

"Anita…"

"We're buying the house?" she called out. The chatter coming from the kitchen went dead. Irene was going to skin her but she needed time to search. "I should go pick out my room? Thanks dad!"

"David!" came Irene's voice. Anita pushed him in the direction of the kitchen. He looked back as she walked in another direction.

* * *

><p>"I'm the room where everyone lives all at once," she repeated. "The room where…everyone lives at once. Living room. Next riddle is in the living room." She smiled proudly and made her way into the living room. She could do Sherlock's job easy.<p>

Walking into the living room she looked around. Nothing seemed out of place as far as she could tell. But she knew better. There had to be something that didn't fit in the room, just like Jim didn't fit in this world. With that in mind she combed over every inch with her eyes. And then she spotted it. There was something yellow peeking out from behind the TV. She walked closer and took hold of the object, making it squeak. Pulling it out, she saw it was a rubber duck.

"A…bath toy. This is the next clue?" Looking between the note and the toy Anita sighed. "Maybe I do need Sherlock after all."

She squeaked the toy and noticed that it sounded different. It sounded as if the squeaker was being suppressed by something. Taking a closer look at it she noticed something sticking out of the bottom of it. Anita pulled at a piece of paper sticking out and found the next riddle. Along with it came a small vial that clattered to the floor.

"Result," she said picking up the vial. Inside it was a scroll of paper. Taking it out, she read the written words. "Take me when the world is too much bear. I'll make everything better so that you won't have a care."

She tucked the note back in the vial and placed it into her pocket. That little riddle would require Sherlock's over active mind. Opening the second paper, Anita hoped she be able to figure out the other riddle she held in her hands.

"I am a room within a room. I am the room that is the most private," she said to herself. "A room within a room…what is this Inception house style?"

"I wonder if Charlie has found a room yet," she heard Sherlock voice.

"Oh right." Making her way to the stairs, Anita quickly ran up and went into a random bedroom. Just for the heck of it she took a look around. It was a nice room with its own bathroom and everything. Wait a minute….that was it. A room with in a room.

She walked into the bathroom and looked around. Opening every cupboard she looked in every corner for another note. After searching every possible corner she opened the medicine cabinet. As it came open a Ken doll came flying out, hanging by its neck from a string noose. Anita gasped as it came down.

"Charming Jim." Then she noticed what was tied around the doll. There was another vial with a piece of paper around it. She took the vial and removed the paper. "I am the positive to the negative. The good to the evil. I am the cure."

She twirled the bottle around in her hand, the fluids inside swishing around. The words passed through her mind over and over. Then Sherlock's voice came into her head. 'You are more brilliant than you look. Impress me'. What could be the positive to the negative, the good to the evil, the cure? Positive and negative? Well John had called Moriarty and Sherlock positive and negative. But that couldn't be it, the paper wasn't talking about them. Or was it? Jim certainly was a negative after all.

"He's like poison," she said out loud. Then it clicked. "Oh duh! I'm so thick. Poison! Because he is poisoning people and he _is_ poison! So that would make you," she said holding up the other vial, "the antidote!"

Anita bowed to an invisible audience. Taking both vials she ran downstairs and into the kitchen. Irene and Sherlock looked up as she entered.

"I've got it," she said dropping the daughter act. She ignored the real-estate agent's questioning look and sat between her 'parents'. "I've got the clues."

She laid out the papers and placed the two bottles on the counter. Irene picked up the bottle with the antidote inside it.

"What is it?" she asked examining it.

"That is the antidote which would make the other…"

"Poison," Sherlock finished. "Oh that is…brilliant." He picked up the other vial. "It's empty."

"Course it is," Anita said. "He's already done the poisoning now all that's left is the antidote for the poison." She leaned against the counter. "Impressed?"

"Very," he said proudly.

"So this is the antidote then?" Irene questioned. Sherlock shook his head.

"Not necessarily. It could just be water. I wouldn't count on Jim Moriarty to give us an antidote for anything."

"Sorry," broke in the real-estate agent. "But what is it you do exactly Mr. Williams?"

Sherlock looked to her. "My name is not Mr. Williams. I am Sherlock Holmes and I would like to thank you for letting us snoop around the place to find these clues. My colleges and I must really be going now."

He and Irene stood. The three of them began to head out of the house. The real-estate agent followed them in bewilderment.

"So you're not buying the house then?"

"Nope," Sherlock answered popping the 'p'. He opened the door for Irene and Anita. "Laters."

**Okay one more vid for you to see. Last one promise. Sherlock Holmes complains about fake Sherlock Holmes. **


	12. I need a Watson

"I asked you to pass me that vial," Sherlock said as John walked into the room.

"When was that?"

Sherlock kept his focus on the work he was doing. "Two hours ago."

John sighed. "I've been at Mary's almost all day."

"Have you? You were standing by the mantle a moment ago."

John's brow furrowed. He looked around and saw the skull sitting on the mantle. "That's the skull Sherlock. You mistaked a skull for me?"

Sherlock finally looked up. "Well you have to admit…you two have some like qualities." He stretched out his scarecrow like arm, hand open. "The vial if you please John."

John picked up a vial sitting on the table. As he placed it into Sherlock's hand he said, "Do you just continue talking to the skull when I'm not here?"

"Don't know…how often are you gone?" John rolled his eyes.

"I'm off to bed. You going to stay up a bit longer?" Sherlock nodded. John said goodnight and turned to leave. As he did he spotted Anita asleep on the couch. "Sherlock," he sighed. "I wish you wouldn't drag my Eva into your crazy work."

Sherlock looked over his shoulder before turning back to his work. "I didn't drag her into anything. She volunteered to help."

"Why do I not believe you?" Sherlock didn't answer. "I'm taking her to bed."

"No John," he said quickly. He turned in his seat to face his friend. "Leave her there. I like having at least one Watson around. I need a Watson…what am I to do when you are out gallivanting around with Margret?"

"Mary," he corrected. "You seem to do pretty well when I'm not here. You've got the skull to carry on with," he said gesturing to the macabre item.

"John," Sherlock said with an almost remorseful tone. "No skull could ever replace you. You're my Watson."

John nodded. "Please don't say that around anyone else…people will definitely think we are a couple." Sherlock smirked. "And please don't let her sleep here all night," he said looking to his sister. "She has got a play to put on at the end of the month. Don't think they will appreciate it if Elphaba is asleep during one of her bits."

"Of course. Night then John." John gave him a little smile before kissing Anita's head and going to his room.

Sherlock sat at the desk, clues and vials spread out before him, trying to figure out Moriarty's next move. Whatever it was he wanted to be ready. The clock on the mantle indicated that it was one in the morning. Sherlock stood and stretched his limbs, running his hands through his hair. He looked over to the peaceful girl. That clever girl who had figured out the clues on her own.

He felt a little smile come to his face. That seemed to be happening a lot lately.

"Sleeping Beauty and her prince," came a soft voice. Sherlock looked to see Irene in the doorway to the living room. "What a sweet tale of love. Don't you think?"

"Thought you'd gone to bed," Sherlock said collecting the clues and setting them aside on the desk.

Irene walked into the room and sat on the table in front of the couch. "You know how the tale goes? How the prince wakes her?"She stroked the sleeping girl's hair lightly. "A kiss."

Sherlock sighed. "When will you give it up Irene?"

She looked back at him. "It's just a simple task Holmes. Just one little kiss to see how a woman's compares to a girl's."

"Leave it alone will you," he asked in a tired tone. She stood and walked over to him. Taking his hand in hers she rested her head on his chest. Sherlock ran his index finger and middle finger up and down her wrist calmingly.

"Coming to bed?" He pushed past her to pick up Anita. He hoisted her up and headed for the stairs.

"I'll take the couch tonight," he said on his way out. Irene followed him and watched him carry the sleeping girl down the stairs.

"Pity," she called to him. "I think I found a good way to make you beg for your life."

He ignored her and continued on. Getting to her door he set her down, leaning her against him so he could open it. Carrying her in he managed to get a light on and gently set her in her bed. He pulled the covers up around her and turned the light off. Just as he was about to head out her little voice stopped him.

"Sherlock." He turned and walked back to the bed. "Will you come?"

"To what Anita?"

"My play," she mumbled sleepily.

"Of course," he said after a moment. She nodded and turned over falling back into sleep.

* * *

><p>"Hey there she is." Anita turned at the sound of his voice. "Wanted to come and see you before your big debut." He closed the door to the prop room behind him.<p>

Anita felt her heart stop and start again. "What are you doing here?"

"I told you. I wanted to see you, give you a good luck kiss." He began to walk towards her. Anita backed up as much as she could.

"Stay away from me Jim," she said putting out a hand. He stopped walking and gave her a hurt look. "Don't come anywhere near me."

"Babe what are you…what's the matter?"

"I said just leave me alone!" Realization came into his eyes as he looked her over.

"What name did you call me just now?"

"_Your_ name, Jim Moriarty." He smiled and bent his head. Right in front of her eyes he shifted into a whole new person. Richard Brook died then and there as Jim Moriarty rose to the surface. His eyes grew cold, smile became that of insanity, and his stance took on a fierce presence.

"Oh dear," he said with a shrug. "You found me out. Let me guess that Consulting Detective told you." He nodded. "What a gossipy little bitch. Don't you agree?"

"Why don't we call him?" She pretended to reach for her mobile. She hoped that the thought of Sherlock coming along would scare him off. "You can ask him if he agrees with your nickname."

Jim smiled. "Your acting is a little off sweetheart. I know you don't have your phone." He took a couple steps closer to her, she tried to back up more.

"Stop. Just…just go away!" The hurt expression came back into his eyes. He placed a hand over his heart.

"Darling you're breaking mi corazon. But you know what really hurts? The thought of you developing feelings for that…Sherlock Holmes," he said making a fierce face at the name. "See here I was looking for a distraction. All my _life_ I've been looking for a distraction. You were the best and now because of Sherlock I don't even have you."

"You never had me! Don't you get that you crazy, sadistic, manipulative…"

He pulled a gun from his waistband and pushed her against the wall. "Ah, ah, ah." He put the end of the gun to her temple. She flinched. "Let's not say things we will regret later. Hmm?" He took her in and let out a sigh. "You really are beautiful aren't you?"

He placed a hand at her neck and rested his forehead against hers. Anita looked into his cold eyes and saw the man who had put her brother into a bomb jacket, the man who had killed innocent people, the man who had lied to her.

After a moment he pulled away and gave her a smile.

Walking to the door he called over his shoulder, "See you soon earth angel."

The door shut behind him and a shuttering breath escaped her. Anita closed her eyes trying to get her nerves back together. Why did this psychotic man have to fancy her? Why did he have to torment her? Taking in deep and calming breaths she tried to focus her mind off of Jim Moriarty.

The door opened again startling her.

"There you are," said Deb. "C'mon we need to get you into makeup."

Anita nodded and followed Deb out of the prop room.


	13. Black, black heart

She climbed out of the cab and slammed the door shut before John could get out. He sighed and opened the door. While he paid the cabbie Anita made her way up the steps and began searching through her purse for the keys. Unable to find them she threw her purse to the floor.

"Anita," John said in a soothing voice. He picked up her bag and found the keys within seconds. "You just need to calm down."

"I _can't _calm down John!" He turned to unlock the door. "He found me! How could he have found me?" John got the door open and ushered her inside. "He must have been watching me. He probably still is watching me."

He closed the door behind himself. "No one is watching you." But she didn't buy it. Seeing that this was truly bothering her John pulled her into a hug. "Everything is alright."

She pushed him away. "You keep saying that…but it's not John. Everything is not alright." She headed up the stairs and he followed her.

"Well why didn't you call me when it happened?" She parted into the kitchen as he went into the sitting room. "I would have come to get you."

"I had a play to put on didn't I?" she called from the kitchen. After picking a drink from the fridge she joined her brother in the next room. "I'm an actress, as mum and dad love to criticize. I make my living from putting on plays." She dropped down in the desk chair, leaning her elbows on the top of the desk. "Not all of us can be free range doctors."

"No need to be a cow," John said with a little surprise in his tone. He and Anita had always gotten along no matter what. It was only recent that they started having rows.

Anita crossed her arms on the desk and rested her chin on her arms. It was quiet for a moment when Sherlock walked in. Anita perked up at the sight of him.

"You! Where the blooming hell were you tonight?" she said pointing at him. Sherlock stepped over the table and dropped to the couch with violin in hand.

"I've been here. Where else could I possibly be?" John watched as Anita's anger slipped into heart break. "I got tied up with a case here."

John looked to him confused. "What case? You've got nothing on."

"He certainly didn't when I was done with him," came a silky voice. Irene came walking in, in Sherlock's dressing gown. She kissed Sherlock's cheek, grabbed something out of the fridge, and took a seat with them.

Anita gaped at her. "What is _she_ still doing here?" she asked, anger slipping back in. "It's been practically a month! I think Jim's moved on to better things."

"Is she always this rude or am I special?" Irene asked looking to John.

"Shut up Irene," John said before turning to his sister. But before he could speak Sherlock jumped in.

"What are you talking about?" he asked running the bow over the strings quickly.

"You'd know had you been at my play," she bit out. Her gaze grew cold as it lingered on him.

"Be more specific and less dull, there's a girl," he said patronizingly. John could practically hear his sister's teeth grinding together as her jaw clenched.

"Moriarty attacked her just before the play," John answered. Sherlock jumped out of his seat. Irene looked to her with curiosity. Had that been Jim's plan?

"What?" He looked to her with a mixture of emotions in his eyes. "Moriarty was there and you let him escape?" was what came out. Anita looked at him in shock.

"He held a gun to my head Holmes," she said slowly.

"I pointed a gun at you before and you didn't flinch against me," he stated still not getting it.

Anita stood. "Yes because I was sure_ you_ wouldn't use it!" For a moment the two of them stood gazing at the other. Anita opened her mouth to speak but closed it again. "Ugh!"

Snatching up her drink she left and went downstairs. Sherlock watched her go, thinking over her words. And then it hit him.

"The play! It was tonight?" he asked turning on John.

"Yes," he answered simply.

"Why didn't you remind me John?"

John scoffed at him. "I told you five times! Don't you ever listen or is your massive idiotic brain blocking out all sound but your own voice? Unbelievable Sherlock." He got up himself and left in the same manner as his sister.

"Well," Irene said standing. "The Watsons know how to make an exit." She walked up to Sherlock and gave him a light kiss. "Come back to bed. I still have to make you beg a second time."

She left, expecting him to follow. Instead Sherlock remained in the sitting room all night.

* * *

><p>John woke to the sound of plates clattering in the kitchen. Walking into the kitchen he expected to see Mrs. Hudson but instead found Sherlock.<p>

"W-what are you doing?" he asked rubbing his eyes to make sure it wasn't an illusion. Sure enough Sherlock was standing there…cooking. Sherlock placed a cup of coffee in John's hand.

"Making breakfast," he answered turning back to the sloppy pancakes. "Is Anita up yet?"

"Oh I see," he nodded. John shook his head and smiled. "I get it now." Sherlock looked at him with wonder. "You're trying to bribe her to get the friendship back."

"I am not," he answered almost sounding offended.

"Your pancakes are burning," John pointed out. Sherlock quickly tried to salvage them. "And you are. You did it with me, and you're doing it again right now," he said holding up the cup in his hand.

"Have I? When was that?" He picked up a pancake, burning his fingers, and threw it onto a plate with the other half decent ones.

"You made coffee at that pub during the Hound of Baskerville." John raised the cup to his lips.

"That's right," Sherlock said stopping him from taking a drink. "You don't take sugar." He tossed the coffee into the sink. "I'll make more."

John picked up the paper and sat at the table, finding it clean for once. "She's gone out."

"Hmm?"

"Anita," he said unfolding the paper. "She's gone out."

Sherlock spun around. "Gone out? Gone out where? It's six in the morning."

John shrugged. "I don't know. She just went out."

Sherlock dropped the spatula and walked out of the kitchen. John got up quickly so the food wouldn't burn. Letting out a sigh he couldn't believe how this man acted like a child so often.

"It's your fault," he said after a moment. There was no reply from Sherlock. John turned off the burners and set the food aside. He walked into the other room and repeated himself. "This is your fault."

"What is?" Sherlock was on the couch, curled up, back to John.

"All of this. Moriarty coming after Anita…it never would have happened if you hadn't dragged her in." He let out a breath. "I asked you not to involve her."

Sherlock turned on his friend. He faced the other man, eyes ablaze. "And I didn't. Take some of the blame John really!"

"He's coming after her because of you," John replied, voice raising a little. "And, and, and this stupid _game_ you are playing with him."

"He is coming after her because she is your sister," he clarified. "And because she is your sister that makes her close to me. If Harriett and you were closer he would probably go after her as well. You signed Anita's death certificate the moment you brought her to this flat. Though what made it worse was inviting her to live here!"

"That was Mrs. Hudson's idea!"

"Then the both of you are the cause of her plight," he said going back to his curled up position. "And mine for that matter." John grabbed his jacket and put on his shoes. Hearing the movement Sherlock turned back to him again. "Where are you going?"

"To Mary's."

John walked down the stairs and out the door. After a moment Sherlock got up and watched him cross the street. Fine if that's the way John wanted things…then fine. He didn't need John nor did he need Anita. He didn't need a Watson, he didn't need anyone but himself.

"I don't need friends," he told himself before moving away from the window.

* * *

><p>He was going to burst. As he sat in the chair his legs moved continuously. Crap telly was worse than ever, John had removed all bullets from the guns so there would be no more holes in the wall, John had also hidden the nicotine patches, and Mrs. Hudson was at a book club so there was no one to bother. Even Irene was out.<p>

Unable to keep still, Sherlock got out of the chair and began to pace around the room. He finally paused at the desk and looked at the cases he had yet to look into but it didn't interest him. He couldn't focus.

"What's happening to me?" he asked the skull. He walked over to the mantle and picked it up. "What is this? Why can't I focus? I have tons of cases to keep me busy but everything is…wrong. What's that?" He cocked his head as if to listen to the skull. "What does Anita have to do with anything? Yes I know she is cross with me. What are you going on about? You want me to call her? Are you mad? No. Why should I?"

He set the skull back down and picked his phone up off the table. Scrolling through names he finally found hers.

"Shut up," he said looking back to the skull. "I'm doing it so just back off."

The phone rang a few times before going to voicemail.

"Hey this is Anita. Leave me a message and I'll get back. Laters."

"Anita…uhm hello. Look you know I am crap at apologize and I don't do them often…or at all actually." He paused for a moment trying to figure out his next words. "But I am sorry I missed your play. I did intend to go, believe it or not. I wanted to see you and the other trained monkeys going about on stage. Anita…I…"

"I'm sorry this user's voicemail is full," came a recorded voice. "If you would like to leave a message please call back and try again. I'm sorry this user's…"

Sherlock hung up and tried again. He got her voicemail and once again it told him things were full. He tried a third time and got the same response. Frustrated he hung up the phone and tucked it into his pocket. Quickly he dressed, grabbed his jacket and scarf, and set out to The Queen's Court Theater.

He had to see Anita and get this apology off his chest. The whole ride there he tried to think of better things to say, some way to make the apology actually sound like an apology. As the cab pulled up Sherlock finally had the right words…he hoped.

Walking into the theater he saw a young man heading from backstage.

"Is Anita Watson in there?" he asked.

"Anita? Nope. Haven't seen her all day," the young man replied. Panic began to rise in Sherlock.

"No she was here today. You had practice didn't you?" The man nodded. "So she should have been here."

"Aye mate she should have but she wasn't. Her understudy Amanda was called in."

The young man walked past Sherlock. The panic kept rising until it got caught in his throat. Something was wrong. Anita wouldn't miss practice, like she had said it was her living. So what could have…oh of course! Moriarty. Oh God what had he done to her? A gun to the head was the least threatening with a man like Moriarty. Sherlock ran back out to the street and hailed another cab. As he did so he pulled out his mobile and phone John.

"Sherlock I don't really…" came John's voice.

"John shut up for a moment! Anita left the house at what time?"

"What?"

"What time did Anita leave the house?"

He paused for a moment. "Uhm five thirty I guess. Why? Sherlock why do you sound so…."

"John he has her. I don't know how but he does."

John didn't even need to ask who. "I'll meet you at Scotland Yard."

* * *

><p>One of the men carried the bound and gagged girl in. The other turned on the lights in the theater and went walking back to where <em>he<em>, the nameless man, would be waiting. He opened the door and found their 'boss' waiting just outside the theater. He walked out to the nameless man.

"Do you have it?" The man placed her phone into his hand. The nameless man smiled and followed the man into the theater. As they walked into the empty darkened theater her phone buzzed.

**Sherlock** came up on the screen. He shook his head and hit ignore.

"No calls today," he said to himself. He looked up to see the second man place the girl in the seat on the stage. "Careful now. Don't want a single hair out of place on her beautiful head."

The second man tried to set her down carefully as she squirmed to get free. With her wiggling around so much the man lost his grip on her and dropped her on the stage. In frustration the man yanked her up and threw her into the chair. Just as he reached back to hit her, a shot rang through the silence of the empty room. The man fell off the stage.

"Not a hair out of place," the nameless man repeated again. The other man looked to their 'boss' but didn't argue. "Right then…you." He looked to the other man. "You're done, get out of my site."

"A-a-and my family sir?" he asked nervously. The nameless man tilted his head in question. "They will be safe?"

"Of course. Just as I promised." The man looked to the nameless man with slight disbelief. This well tailored man who stood before him with a cold gaze. "My word is my bond. Off you go then…I need to decorate," he said looking around the theater. The man ran to the exit as fast as he could. Before leaving he looked back at the girl they had taken. The poor thing, he hated taking her and delivering her into the hands of the nameless man. But he had to save his family.

With one last glance he ran out of the theater. The nameless man, not so nameless to her, made his way to the stage. As he did he felt her phone buzz again. **Sherlock** appeared once again.

"Sherlock?" he asked in a mocking voice. "No, no, no. This won't do. Can't have him calling."

She watched as he tapped into her phone. Within a few moments he was in. He set it on speaker as the voicemail message came up before Sherlock's voice rang through the empty room.

"Anita…uhm hello. Look you know I am crap at apologize and I don't do them often…or at all actually." He paused for a moment. "But I am sorry I missed your play. I did intend to go, believe it or not. I wanted to see you and the other trained monkeys going about on stage. Anita…I…"

"He's pathetic isn't he?" Jim said looking to her. "Opsey." He began typing something into her phone.

A recorded voice came up. "I'm sorry this user's voicemail is full…"

"That should…" he began but her phone went off again. Letting out a noise of frustration he looked back to the phone. "Sherlock, Sherlock, bloody Sherlock! Sorry no calls today lover boy! Persistent isn't he?"

Once again the recorded voice came up saying the voicemail was full. She felt her heart drop into her stomach. If only she could speak and call out for a savior. She began to mumble, trying to form words through her gag, catching his attention.

"Sorry pet what was that?" He removed the gag and wiped her mouth of the drool that came with it.

"Let me go Jim," she said in a horse voice. "You know Sherlock and John will figure things out and save me."

He shrugged. "I'm counting on it actually. I wonder how long it will take the virgin and his pet." Anita tried to untie her hands while he talked.

"You can't call him that anymore," she said trying to keep him talking. He gave her a curious look.

"Is that right? And how would you know that?" She could see the emotions in his eyes. Did he think that Sherlock and she had….and if he did, was he jealous? She paused in her attempt to get free.

"Oh God," she said in a quiet voice. "I get it. You…you're in love with me?" Jim kept his features blank. "Why? How? You have a black, _black_ heart. You pointed a gun at my head. Is that how you show affection?"

"I'll answer your questions. But not right now Anita." She watched him take out a syringe. "Time to sleep."

He stuck the needle into her arm. She tried to push away but couldn't. Feeling a rush of sleep take over, Anita's head began to fall back. Jim cradled the back of her head with his hand. He tilted her head down so her hair hung over her face. Crouching down he tucked her hair behind her ear.

"I may have a black heart…but at least I have one," he said to the unconscious girl.


	14. Earth Angel

Lestrade was eating his lunch when the two of them burst in. He let out a sigh, taking his feet off his desk.

"Sherlock not now. Just this once can't I just…"

"No you can't just Detective Inspector," John answered. "My sister has been taken. Jim Moriarty has her."

Lestrade looked between the two of them. "Right."

Sherlock leaned his hands on the desk and looked at Lestrade. "What do you mean right? Why aren't you springing into action? Anita has been taken by that maniac and we need to do something."

"I can't really unless you have hard proof that it was Jim Moriarty." Sherlock looked at him with wide blue eyes. John stepped in, voice growing tense with every word.

"Greg this is my sister! A mad man has her and I want her back in one piece." His hands formed into fists. "There have been plenty of times where you have gone off a hunch or a single word that we have told you. You've never needed hard evidence there."

"I know John," Lestrade answered. "But we are talking about Anita. She is still alive. Our usual cases deal with the dead. With this we are talking about putting a man away for endangering a life. Different rules boys."

John ran a hand over his face. Sherlock eased up and with determination began to head for the door. John followed after him, worry drowning him.

"Don't worry John," Sherlock said. "We will get the hard evidence. Moriarty must have slipped up somehow."

* * *

><p>The sound was muffled at first. Gradually as she came back into consciousness the sound became clearer.<p>

"…I fell for you and I knew the vision of your loveliness…"

Slowly she dragged her head back up. Her neck was stiff and hurt from being bent in one position for hours.

"…I hoped and I prayed that someday I'd be the vision of your happiness…"

Raising her head up, she saw a figure standing at the edge of the stage singing into one of the microphones. As her vision cleared she realized it was Jim and his voice echoed through the empty theater and her clouded head.

"Earth angel, earth angel, please be mine," he said turning around to face her. "My darling dear, love you all the time." He came walking back towards her and got down on one knee. "I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you."

Anita's head swam with dizziness. What had he given her? She tried to speak but couldn't get her mouth to function the way she wanted. Jim set the microphone down on the stage.

"I…" she began in a rough voice. "John…I n-n-need…Joh…Sherl…"

"Shh there now." Jim put a hand to her cheek and turned her face towards him. "Just relax."

"W-wha…did you…give…g-give…me?" she pushed out.

"Just a little something to keep you compliant," he said pushing her hair out of her face. "I love your fight Anita but I just can't have it right now." He stood and dusted off his suit. "I will answer your questions now however."

Anita struggled to keep her head up and eyes open. Jim walked around her chair. As he did so she could hear the familiar beeps of the buttons on her phone.

"So," he said after a moment of messing with her phone. "You want to know how is that right? Well the truth is it was when you hugged me. See I got no hugs from my parents when I was little." He let out a laugh. "Sad isn't it, that I fit into the stereotype of a psycho? No love from parents, picked on things smaller than me, no affection from anyone. And then you came along."

He stopped in front of her. She tilted her head back as much as she could to see him. For a moment she could see the sweet Richard Brook looking back at her. Her heart ached for that man to come back and take pity on her. She had liked Richard Brook and enjoyed the time she had spent with him. No…no he was a lie. She had to remember Richard Brook was an act.

"You expressed so much gratitude for what I did," he continued. "Your hug was so full of warmth," he said getting lost in the memory. "So much emotion behind one little gesture."

He looked back to her, a tear slipped from her eyes. Coming closer he reached out and wiped it away. She looked up at him and begged with her eyes. If he cared for her the way he said, she prayed he would see her pain and just let her go.

"Most people don't believe I can love. Being an evil mastermind and all," he laughed. "They'd be right too. And then I found you, the sister of Sherlock's live-in pet." He stroked her cheek with his thumb.

Anita let out a breath. "J-John. I need…Joh…"

"Don't worry darling. I expect Doc and Dopey will be along any moment." He checked her phone one more time and slipped it into her pocket. Reaching into his own pocket he pulled out a little vial. "And to keep them on their toes, we're going to give them a little shock."

He tilted her head back and opened her mouth. After unscrewing the vial he poured its contents into her mouth. After she swallowed them he brought her head back down.

"And a kiss to make it go down smoothly."

He bent down and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss was surprisingly tender and gentle. It was as if they were sharing their first kiss again. It made her think that there was hope. Hope that he wasn't as evil as he acted. Hope that Richard Brook was not all gone in him. His phone buzzed, making him pull back. He took it out of his pocket and read over the message. With a sigh he placed it back into his pocket.

"Well I've got to be going." He picked up the microphone and placed it off stage. "Before I go there are a couple things I need to tell you." He came back to her and bent down so his lips were at her ear. "For my princess I'll win fine jewels. To unlock the prison of her heart I have the tools. I can give her all the money in the world, for those who keep vaults are fools."

She was so focused on his words that she didn't notice, nor feel, the needle slipping into her skin. He took the needle out and placed one last kiss at the corner of her mouth. "Sleep. Forget I was here. Be seeing you my earth angel."

Anita watched him jump off the stage and head up towards the exit. All the lights went out, save a spotlight that was aimed on her. Anita sat there in her bonds, head lolling from side to side, heart breaking in desperation.

"John," she cried out in a small voice. "Sherlock. Please…"

Her head dropped as her eyes shut. Sleep took over her mind and body.

* * *

><p>John's heart dropped for the fifth time. How were they going to find evidence? The street teemed with people and cars. Any evidence they could get would be lost, especially since she had most likely been taken early in the day and it was now very late afternoon. Even with Sherlock's massive intellect they wouldn't find anything.<p>

"You're right," John said as Sherlock ran around in front of The Queen's Court Theater. "I signed her death certificate in bringer her round."

Sherlock pushed people out of the way trying to get a look at the side walk. "John don't give up on me. I can find her. I will find her! But all these bloody humans are in the way!"

People turned to look at him as they walked by. Frustrated, Sherlock ran his hands through his hair, sending the curls everywhere. There had to be something, anything, he could use. He paused for a moment and took in a deep breath. Closing his eyes he tried to picture the area in the early hours of the morning.

John said she left around five thirty that morning. Anita usually had coffee or tea in the morning to replace eating. That would place her at the coffee shop on the corner at around five-forty-five. She would have gotten a cab from there to the theater. It would have taken twenty minutes…no wait. They were doing work on one of the streets, the cabbie would have had to take a right instead of a left.

That would cause her to loop around. It would have taken half an hour to get to the theater. She would have gotten there around six- thirty. Anita would get out of the cab and then pay, as she usually did. The theater would still be locked until at least eight, so she has nowhere to go. She would stand in front of the theater and wait…unless…someone could have let her in. But who would be there to do that?

Sherlock snapped out of his mind palace.

Walking around the side of the theater he found a side door. John followed him over. Sherlock walked past the door looking for a fire escape or another way to get in.

"Sherlock the door is here," John said pointing to it.

"I know John. Thank you for pointing out the obvious." He found the fire escape and tried to reach it. Though he was lengthy, his arms didn't quite stretch high enough. His finger tips barely touched the ladder.

John watched as he struggled with his task and turned towards the door. "Why aren't we using the door?"

"It will be locked John," Sherlock said trying to jump for the ladder. He missed and cursed under his breath. "Obviously."

John nodded. "Right." He reached for the door handle and tried it. The door squeaked open, catching Sherlock's attention. He came over to John and looked at the man in amazement.

"How'd you do that?" John pointed to the lock on the door. Black electrical tape covered it to prevent the door from ever really being locked.

"Obviously," John said with a smirk as he walked in. Sherlock's shoulders dropped as he followed his friend in. As they walked in, Sherlock took in every inch of the place with just one look.

"I know how it was done," he said as John began to search. He looked back at Sherlock in wonder.

"Already? We've just gotten inside."

Sherlock nodded. "I know and I _know_. Shall I?" John gestured for him to start. As he spoke he could see the whole thing happening in front of them."She was let in by a janitor and he is one of her kidnappers. He let her in and then grabbed her from behind. But Anita wouldn't go without a fight."

He crouched down and examined the carpet. There were distinct marks in the old rug where her feet had dug in to try and stop herself from being dragged away.

"There was another," he said standing. He walked over to a table that was close by. "He tried to grab her feet but she kicked him off, sending him into this table. The table has sat in one spot for years," he said pointing to the floor. "The legs are off their usual marks. The man hit the table, got up, grabbed her legs and they began to carry her out."

"They wouldn't have taken her out the way she came in," John said looking back towards the door. "Someone would have noticed."

"Very good John, and spot on." Sherlock walked out to the main part of the theater. "They would have taken her out this way…she's still fighting them. Here on the wall," he pointed to a specific spot. "She struggled so that one of the men got knocked into the wall, hard enough to make a dent."

Sherlock ran his hand along the wall. His fingers dipped as they reached the indent in the wall. He had to say he was proud of her for fighting and leaving bread crumbs of sorts for them to follow. Sherlock and John walked along till they found an EXIT. That was the door they had taken her out of.

They opened the door and came out into an alley. There were skied marks from tires on the pavement.

"A van would have been waiting here. They put her in it, tied her up, then took off."

John looked down the alley to the street. "So that's it then? That's all there is? They drove off and we don't know where?" He let out a desperate breath. "I really thought we had it. I thought for once we would be able to get something. I had hope that there would be something…"

Sherlock stooped down and picked something up. "Not to worry John. I know exactly where they are."

John looked over at him. Sherlock handed John his finding. It was a patch that looked like it came off a uniform. The Little Tudor Theater was written in bold letters on the patch. John turned the patch over and over in his hand.

"A janitor from her old theater did this?" He let out a breath of relief. "We know where she is." Sherlock was glad to see a smile come to his friend's face. "Oh thank God," John said holding the patch to his chest. "Thank you God…than you."

Sherlock shifted his weight. John looked to him and his smile grew wider.

"Thank you Sherlock. I am so thankful for your…massive brain."

John moved in to give him a hug. At the same time Sherlock extended his hand. The men stood there awkwardly trying to figure out if one was going to hug or if the other was just going to shake hands. They settled on a kind of strange hand shake.

"Right then," Sherlock said. "We should get a cab."

* * *

><p>Two hands moved hair out of her face. Another set of hands began working on her bonds. Two mumbled voices reached her ears and slowly grew clearer as the sleep began to drain from her.<p>

"…she breathing?" came a light voice in front of her.

"She's breathing," confirmed a lower voice from behind her. "Go check the man on the floor. He is one of her kidnappers."

Footsteps moved around her and then disappeared. She shifted a little as the bonds were being pulled off. Footsteps came back up the stage.

"He's dead." It was John. Oh thank the lord! It was her brother come to save her! That meant…

"Alright go check the back carefully. The other might still be lurking." Sherlock. Anita felt her heart lift out of the depths of depression. He got her bonds off and moved to kneel in front of her.

"Sherlock," she said in a weepy voice.

"It's alright Anita. We've found you. You're alright now." Tears dropped from her eyes upon seeing him. She slipped out of her chair and into his arms. He held her tightly, desperate to have her as close as possible. He let out a shaky breath.

He didn't want to admit it but he had felt doubt while they made their way over to the theater. He wasn't sure what they would find. She could have been hacked to pieces for all he knew. Moriarty was 'so changeable', there was no telling what he was capable of. To have her in his arms, holding onto him for life, was the best thing he could imagine at that moment.

Suddenly her stomach began to churn and cramp. Anita let out a sound of pain which he mistaked for a sob.

"Shh Anita,' Sherlock said rocking her back and forth. "I've got you."

Anita began to shiver. He removed his coat and wrapped it around her. She continued to hold onto him, fingers twisting into his suit jacket. Pain shot through her stomach, causing her eyes to close tightly. Slowly she lost her grip on his jacket and her arms slid away. Sherlock felt her head loll back and held her away to see her.

"Anita?" he asked with concern. "Anita! John! John get out here!"

He came running back out to the stage. Sherlock laid her out on stage, his coat still wrapped around her.

"What happened?" John dropped to his knees by her.

"I-I don't know," he said. Sherlock stood and backed away so John could take a look. "She just went limp all of a sudden."

"Anita? Sweetie can you hear me?" John tapped her face lightly. He bent down and put his cheek close to her mouth. "She is hardly breathing. Call and ambulance." He began to pump her heart and blow air into her. Sherlock stood there stunned. "Sherlock! Call and ambulance!"

He snapped too and took out his mobile. John continued to try and get his sister back while Sherlock gave directions to the EMTs.

**AN: **

**Song used: Earth Angel (Death Cab for Cutie version) **

**A good song for Moriarty and Anita is Icon for Hire's song Make A Move. Listen to the lyrics…perfection. Thanks to my muse! And thanks to Strazza you mad genius, hope you're liking the love triangle. **

**And have I mentioned you guys are awesome? Cause all of you totally are!**


	15. Everything is not okay

The EMTs rushed through emergency with Anita on the gurney. John and Sherlock followed on their heels. The gurney went through glass doors to the back of the ER. A nurse stopped the two men from following.

"I'm a doctor," John argued with the nurse. "I can…I can help."

"I'm sorry sir," the nurse said pushing him back. "We have our own doctors on staff."

John tried to look into the other room to see where they had taken her. "You don't understand. I'm her brother. She needs me."

"I'm sure she does but I can't let you back there just yet. We need to get her stable."

"Anita! Anita I'm still here!" John tried to push past. The nurse looked to Sherlock.

"Are you with him?" Sherlock nodded. "Please take him and have him sit. Once she is stable we will let you go back."

Sherlock took hold of John and tried to lead him to the waiting area. He plopped the man down in a chair. He fidgeted in his seat while Sherlock paced in front of him. Every fifteen minutes John got up and asked if he could see his sister. The answer was always 'not yet'. Eventually John learned to wait an hour before going back up and asking. Once again the answer was always 'not yet'.

While the two men waited, they moved seats numerous times. Sherlock moved around to get views of the people who came in and out. He kept busy by examining their lives through simply things such as how they walk or pulled at their uniform. John moved about out of nervousness. It had been hours and still they were unable to go back and see her.

Eventually the two men ended up sitting next to each other, silent, waiting. Finally at five in the morning the nurse walked over to them. They were both asleep, Sherlock's head resting against John's. The nurse shook John lightly.

"Sir wake up." John woke quickly and perked up at the sight of the nurse. "We've moved her to ICU. You'll be able to see her but Doctor Greenwood would like to talk to you."

John nodded and watched the nurse go off to call the doctor. He gathered his coat and woke Sherlock by lightly slapping him. Sherlock woke with a start. He gathered his things as well as John filled him in on what the nurse said. Just then the doctor came walking out.

"Hello you must be the brother," said the man coming up to John.

"Yes. John Watson." They shook hands.

"Hold on…John Watson? Doctor John Watson?" He nodded. The doctor smiled. "And that would make you Sherlock Holmes! Brilliant. I've read the blog and I have to say…"

"Whatever it is it had better be about the girl you just carted up to ICU," Sherlock interrupted. He stared the doctor down, deeply hating his 'fans' and John's blog.

Doctor Greenwood nodded. "Right yes of course. Follow me gentlemen." He continued to talk as they walked. "Now your sister is stable at the moment but I am sorry to say she is going quickly."

"What do you mean?" John asked. Sherlock looked to his friend who had turned sheet white.

"Well there is something in her system that we can't identify. It has gotten into her blood stream and is gradually working its way around her body." They stopped just outside her room. "I can't really give her any medication until we figure out what it is…"

"Are you saying she will die?" Sherlock voiced.

"I'm saying she _is_ dying and will continue until we figure things out." He looked into the window of the room at the young girl. "Right now we have her on life support but it can only do so much for her. I'm sorry to have to report this to you. If…if you write about this in the blog…please mention that."

John stared at the man blankly. Doctor Greenwood nodded and walked away. John finally broke his stone gaze and let out heavy breaths. His chest rose completely and fell as the huffs of breath went in and out.

"Oh…" John's knees began to buckle. "Christ…" He staggered to a chair in the hallway before his knees completely gave out. Sitting in the chair he continued to blow out huffs of air.

Sherlock, unsure of what else to do, asked, "Are you alright? John?"

He shook his head and dragged a hand over his face. "How'd this happen? How could…"

"It's alright John. She is in the hospital. They are doing everything they can. It's okay now."

John got to his feet. "NO IT'S NOT! It's not okay! She is dying Sherlock!" People in the halls looked at them. "She is…my baby sister is dying and I can't do anything. I'm a doctor and I can't…." His voice began to break. He paused for a moment trying to gain composure. "I should be able to help and I can't."

Without warning Sherlock pulled John to him. He hugged his friend tightly. John was unsure of what to do but felt the care and concern roll off Sherlock. He hugged the man back starting to feel a little comfort. After an awkward moment Sherlock patted John on the back and released him.

John stood there for a moment feeling stunned. Both of them were silent.

"I need some time with her," he finally spoke. "I just need to talk…I'll meet you at home."

Sherlock nodded. He didn't want to leave but he knew John needed a moment. He glanced into the room to where Anita lay. His heart lurched at the thought of leaving her but he forced himself to walk down the hall and out the door.

* * *

><p>John sat there silent for a long moment. What should he say to her? What was he supposed to say?<p>

"They say talking to people helps them come back," he said finally. "I know that is for comma patients but…I thought if you could hear me…maybe…" His voice broke as tears began to sting his eyes. He took in a deep breath before continuing. "I just want you to stop this. Just stop…for me. Please. I …I don't want you to go. You're too young to die. You have so much more to do. Hmm? Like becoming a proper Hollywood actress. You've wanted that since you were little."

He hesitantly reached over and took her hand in his. He let out a laugh and said, "I remember when we were younger and you'd put on plays. I would always be the knight, Harriett the evil witch, you the heroine and Gladston the wise old king. And dad, he would come bursting in yelling 'what have you done to Gladston now?'" He laughed again. "I hate the world, I hate it for what it's done to you, to me. I want to go back to those days before this, before the war, before I went to university. I just…I want happiness back."

The tears slipped from his eyes at last. Just then Molly came into the room.

"Oh John," she said. She turned to go but hesitated. "Sorry…I just…I saw Sherlock and he told me what happened." She looked to the girl in the bed. "I am so sorry."

"Thanks," he said wiping his eyes. Molly took out a tissue and handed it to him.

"I thought I might get some flowers for her. Just to cheer the room," she said looking around. "Would that be alright?"

"Yeah…yeah she loves flowers." For some reason that sentence made him break completely. Molly hesitated leaving the room again. She walked over to John and placed a hand on his back to comfort him.

* * *

><p>"You hoo," came Mrs. Hudson's voice. She knocked on the door to the sitting room. She came in to find Sherlock just putting his coat on. "Off to see Anita then? Good would you mind taking her these flowers?"<p>

Mrs. Hudson held out a small bouquet of daisies. Sherlock took the flowers and looked them over.

"Why is it when people are in hospital everyone sends them flowers?" He looked at the little card Mrs. Hudson had written for the girl. "It's not as if they are going to make things any better. She is still dying."

Mrs. Hudson broke into tears. Sherlock watched as the older woman sobbed. She moved closer to him and hugged him. Sherlock put an arm around her.

"Anita will be alright won't she Sherlock?"

He remained quiet for a moment. What would John tell him to say? 'Don't make her feel worse,' came John's voice into his mind. 'Comfort her and don't be yourself.' With a sigh Sherlock followed the instructions from John's voice.

"She will be fine Mrs. Hudson." He pulled her back and gave her a genuine smile. "John and I are on the case. We will bring her home fit as a bird soon. I'll give her your flowers."

Mrs. Hudson smiled and nodded. Sherlock got his scarf and looped it round his neck. Getting to the hospital he found a few people in the room with John. Lestrade was the first one he spotted and then Donovan and Anderson came into view.

"What are they doing here?" Sherlock came in and set Mrs. Hudson's flowers down next to the ones from Molly.

"I wanted to see if she was alright," Lestrade said in defense.

"I wasn't talking about you Inspector." Sherlock turned a cold gaze to the other two. "Still having an affair Anderson?" The man glared at Sherlock. "I smell that deodorant on Donovan again so I'm assuming yes."

"Now look here you…" Anderson began. "I don't appreciate you…"

"Of course you don't," Sherlock cut in. "None of you appreciate me…well maybe John."

"I mean it you! I don't like you walking about making accusations about me and Sally," continued Anderson.

Sherlock gave the man a look. "Please don't try and act brave Anderson. Trying to impress Donovan…doesn't suit you."

"Shut it!" Lestrade broke in before Anderson could continue. "Now look we wanted to see if she was alright. I also wanted to know, have you found anything that we can use for evidence?"

John sat up and pulled out the patch from the janitor's uniform. "We've got this. There was also electrical tape over the door, signs of a struggle, and skid marks from a van."

Lestrade looked at the patch. "Right so this is Moriarty's then?"

"No it came off a janitor who was one of the men who took her."

The Inspector sighed and handed the patch back over. "So it wasn't Moriarty then."

"No, no it was," argued John. "He uses other people. You know that Lestrade. You know how he works," he said feeling frustration build.

"I know John but…like I told you. These are different rules here. In order to put him away for life endangerment and kidnapping we need to know a hundred percent it was him."

John pinched the bridge of his nose. Sherlock turned on the Inspector.

"You have the patch. Find the janitor it belongs to and at least arrest him," he demanded.

"And what are we supposed to do with him?" Donovan asked.

Sherlock narrowed his gaze on her. "It's your job isn't it? _Detect_! Ask him questions, beat it out of him if you need to! I guarantee the name Jim Moriarty will come out."

"Alright freak. Calm yourself."

Lestrade sighed. "Right out. Go on." Donovan and Anderson walked out of the room. "John I give you my condolences. If there is anything I can do just give me a ring."

"I've already told you what you can do Lestrade," John answered bitterly. "Find Moriarty and arrest him, get rid of him."

Lestrade sighed and motioned for Sherlock to follow him outside to the hall. Sherlock shut the door to the room after himself.

"You're rubbing off on him," the Inspector said pointing to John through the window. Sherlock smirked. "As for you…I don't want you abusing my staff."

"I wouldn't have to if they weren't so simple minded Lestrade." He made to go back into the room and paused. "Honestly what kind of standards do you have for hiring?"

* * *

><p>John woke. His body was stiff from being in one position for too long. Sitting up slowly he stretched his sore muscles and yawned.<p>

"You should go home and get proper sleep," Sherlock said. John looked over to see Sherlock blowing air into a glove and tying the end of it off. Looking around he saw the floor was riddled with glove balloons.

"How long have you been doing that?" Sherlock released the balloon, swatting at it and sending it off.

"Since midnight." John looked at his watch. It was three in the morning. "Like I said you need proper sleep. Go home."

John yawned as he answered. "You need to sleep too. You go home."

Sherlock gave the man a look. "Come now John you know I can function better than you on less than an hour of sleep."

John stood. "Look we should both just head home for a bit. I've asked Molly to pop round in about a couple hours to check on Anita. So if you want to hang about…"

Sherlock made a face. "No I think you're right. Sleep would be good."

John nodded. "Thought so."

The two men gathered their coats. John kissed Anita's head before heading out. Sherlock walked to her bedside and held her hand for a moment. There he made her a silent promise to find a way to help her and a way to put Moriarty behind bars.

As they walked down the hall, both were unaware that they were being watched.


	16. A jealous man is never sane

He watched the two walk out of the ER before going into her room. There she lay, his earth angel, fast asleep from the poison. Sitting on the bed, he took her hand into his and stroked her hair.

"My poor angel. I'm sorry I had to hurt you the way I did." He moved his hand from her head and pulled a vial out of his pocket. "Thought Sherlock would have saved you by now. Guess he's not as clever as I give him credit for."

He unscrewed the lid of the vial and took out a syringe. He set her hand down on his lap while he took the liquid from the vial. Once he got enough in the syringe he followed the IV connected to her hand and found a place to put the syringe in. He sent the liquid through the tube and into her hand. Anita's eyes shut tightly and she moaned in pain. Jim took hold of her hand and placed his other hand on her head.

"Shh," he soothed. "Shh it's alright Anita." He watched as her vitals stabilized and went back to normal. She calmed and relaxed under his touch. "There's my girl." He set her hand back on the bed. Jim took out a small paper and quickly wrote on it. Folding it up, he tucked it into the empty vial and placed the vial in the bag with her belongings.

He moved over to the monitor and pressed a few buttons on it. With that he kissed her forehead and walked out of the room. The second he left the room alarms began to go off and nurses rushed into her room.

* * *

><p>"Alright Mr. O'Donnle remember now take that three times a day." He opened the door for the man and waved to him. "Call me if there are any problems."<p>

Walking back to his desk he plopped down and sighed. The day was dragging on so slowly. He felt like it had been ages since he was at the hospital that morning. He wanted to go back so badly but every time he tried to go back he got a text.

**Go back to work John **

**SH **

**Don't even think about going to the hospital **

**SH **

**Your next patient is here John, can't leave **

**SH **

**If you leave that office I will post an embarrassing story to your blog **

**SH **

Sherlock was right, surprisingly. The both of them needed to carry on with their usual day. That way they wouldn't be sitting round the flat or hospital worrying. They had to go about their usual day. John went into work at the clinic while Sherlock did his research and experiments, one of them being testing Anita's blood. There had to be something he could do to identify what was killing her. At least that was what John hoped.

John checked his phone. No messages. Setting down his phone he rested his head in his hands. The second his eyes closed the phone rang. John scrambled to answer it, almost dropping it twice.

"Yeah? Yes? Hello?" Pause. "Yes this is John Watson…that's right she is my sister." Pause. "What? What's happened? How?" Pause. "No, yes I will be there directly."

He hung up and grabbed his jacket. Frantically he made it out of his office, telling the woman at the desk he was out for the rest of the day. On his way to the hospital he texted Sherlock excitedly. The second the cab pulled up to the hospital John tossed the fee at the driver and got out, not waiting for the car to come to a full stop.

Desperately he ran into the ER straight to her room. Skidding to a stop in front of her room he looked into the window. His heart fluttered and dropped at the same time. She was sitting up, wide awake, flipping channels on her telly. John opened the door and gradually made his way in.

Anita looked away from the TV and smiled upon seeing her brother. Tears began to slip down John's cheek as he walked over to the bed. Her lower lip began to tremble but she tried to put on a smile.

John wrapped his arms around her, letting out deep breaths. Anita hugged him tightly and let a few tears go herself.

"Oh thank God," John breathed. "Thank you. Oh…God."

* * *

><p>Irene woke in the bed alone. His side had been empty for days. Where was this man? She got up and dressed. Making her way into the sitting room she found Sherlock sitting at a cluttered table in the kitchen. His electric eyes were buried in a microscope, papers lay strewn around him, little petri dishes were laid out with a red substance in them, and various bottles of chemicals crowded him.<p>

"What is all this?" she asked looking at all the objects.

"No," he groaned out. He picked up one of the dishes and tossed it over his shoulder. Irene watched as it landed perfectly in a waist basket. He moved one bottle of chemicals to the side to join a group of others.

"Let me guess…"Sherlock picked up another dish and another bottle. "This is all for Anita."

"How observant of you," he said flatly. He dropped the chemical into the red substance and placed it under the microscope.

"Is it her blood you're testing then?" He nodded. Irene looked at some of the bottles. All of them were some kind of poison. Well at least he understood the girl had been poisoned. She laughed to herself. He had the antidote sitting literally in reach. The question was if she should tell him.

"No." He tossed another dish into the bin. Frustration was beginning to leek into his tone.

Irene sighed. "You'd forsake me as a bedmate for this girl? Hate to admit it but I'm jealous."

"No!" Another petri dish went into the bin, bottle in the pile of no. "Why can't I find it? What is it that he used?"

"Remember brainy is the new sexy." She pecked his cheek. "Think real hard."

"Shut up." She raised her brow. "Get out. I need to go to my mind empire."

Irene did as he asked. Before leaving she ruffled his hair. Sherlock took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. Alright, think, it couldn't be as hard as he was making it. All he had to do was think. He knew it was Moriarty, no matter what Lestrade wanted to believe. So what had they done that had involved Jim Moriarty? Or rather what hadn't they done that didn't involved him?

Sherlock raised his hands, with them came a mental picture of John's blog. He flipped through the mental blog with his right hand. Study in Pink, first meeting of the criminal mastermind's work. The Great Game, first time meeting Moriarty the man. No, no, no it had to be much more recent than that. He flipped through till he reached Let the Curtain Rise. First meeting between Anita and Moriarty.

He set that one off to the side. Scrolling through the rest of the list he found nothing else, surprisingly. Pushing the mental group of John's blog, he moved on. What else had Jim been up to? Ah the poisonings of course. Now then Mycroft had sent messages about them and they had gone to the house. In the house Jim had left clues…Anita had found the clues. She had found….

Just then his phone went off. His eyes opened, all images shattered as he was ripped from his palace. Aggravated he took out his phone. Whoever had broken his concentration was going to pay. What could possibly be so…

**She is going to live**

**JW**

Sherlock jumped up from his seat and bolted for the door. The whole cab ride over her felt jittery. The message from John kept coming back into his mind. She was alright, she was going to live. A kind a of calm came over him as he walked through the ER. Finally he got to her room, a group of people inside. Mrs. Hudson, John, Lestrade, Molly, Anderson, and Donovan were all hovering around her with wide smiles.

Looking at her he felt his heart lift and a smile grace his features. About to enter the room his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"That goofy smile on your face," came a chilling voice. "I should take a picture, it won't last long." Sherlock frantically looked up and down the hallway. He moved around to see the face of every nurse and doctor. "You look ridiculous trying to find me right now."

"Where are you? Show yourself." He continued to keep a vigilant eye out.

"Now why would I do that?"

"To prove you're a man who isn't afraid to face me."

"Why? You going to beat me into the ground?"

Sherlock shrugged. "The thought had crossed my mind."

Jim let out a little laugh. "Look at them all fawning over her, making a fuss. Ordinary people, _adorable_. But you'd know, you've got John." He paused for a moment. "And I've got Anita. Now I have my own Watson."

"She isn't yours," Sherlock growled. "Anita will _never_ be yours."

Jim laughed again. "She won't be yours either. Not when she realizes you could have saved her ages ago and didn't."

Sherlock's brow furrowed. "What?"

"I gave you the antidote," Jim answered in mock surprise. "It's been sitting in your flat for weeks. Why didn't you use it?"

And then it hit him. Right before John's text he almost had it! "Of course…the clues. Your house of riddles, you left the antidote there for me to find. You were telling me flat out what you planned to do."

"Duh. You're losing your touch old boy." He could hear the annoying smile in the man's voice. "I expected more out of you. But then I guess you don't love her as much as I do."

Sherlock let out a burst of laughter. "_Love?_ You?"

"Shocking I know. In all fairness, she brought out the worst in me."

He turned and looked back at Anita. His stomach went into knots. "You…love her?" His heart felt like it was going to come up his throat and choke him. "You poisoned her!"

"Like I said, she brought out the worst in me. That girl," he said with a sigh. "Does she stay on your mind for hours like she does with me?"

A hot burning sensation filled him up at those words. "Stop talking. Don't talk about her," he growled.

"Oh have I hit a nerve?" he asked in mock surprise. Jim laughed. "Listen to you. Poor Sherlock Holmes in love and can't stand the competition."

"Shut up."

"Jealous Holmes is jealous," he taunted.

"Come clean Jim. You don't love her, not really. You went after her to get to me."

"Someone is being selfish," he answered in a sing song voice.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"Now don't be so obvious. But sure…that's the way it started."

Sherlock nodded. "Alright, you like riddles. So riddle me this…how'd you know she would even come in contact with me?"

"Come on now Sherlock…use that wit of yours. Both you and I knew the moment she stepped off that plane coming back from the states. I knew John wouldn't pass up seeing his favorite sister and then all I had to do was put her in your path."

"Let me guess…you paid off her old landlady and got her kicked out. Knowing that she would come to John, you planned that Mrs. Hudson would give her a place to stay."

"Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!"

"And you set up the girl's death at the theater," he continued.

"Hmm actually that wasn't me."

Sherlock raised his brow. "Really?"

"Yeah okay it was! I had those two women in my pocket. The friend, what was her name…Robin? It was easy to put doubt into her mind, already jealous of Anita. All I had to do was place the idea in her head. And the director," he whistled, "…what a catch. She would do anything for me, kill for me…and she did."

Sherlock shook his head in disgust. "You're sick."

"You're just getting that now?"

"How did you know Anita had moved to a different theater?" That was one thing he couldn't quite figure out. "Have you been watching her?"

"Oh in a manner of speaking. I have my own little spy amongst you. My wolf mixed with you sheep."

Sherlock's mind felt like it was on fire. How could he not have known? "Irene," he breathed.

"Very good," he answered slowly. "Now Sherlock love I have something to ask of you. Leave Anita to me Sherlock. She'll be better off."

"I somehow doubt that. You know I could never leave her to someone like you."

"It's cute the way you pursue after her. But daddy's had enough now. Leave it alone, leave her to me." It went silent between them for a moment. "Do you remember where we met Sherlock? The very first time I clapped eyes on you? That's where I'll be."

The line went dead on the other end.

* * *

><p>Bursting into the lab he expected to see Moriarty waiting in his Westwood suit, sarcastic smile on his smug face, and devil horns. Instead he found the room stark and empty save little objects sitting on one of the desks. Sherlock walked over and examined what they were.<p>

One was a little plastic crown, another was a little toy pig, and the last was a lego man in a burglar outfit. Under them was a piece of paper with crude handwriting on it.

**She knows the plan.**

Sherlock crumpled the paper in his hand and dropped it to the floor. Fury filled him and fueled him forward. He headed out of the hospital and straight back to their flat. Rushing in, he found Irene on her phone with a potential 'client'. He took her phone and threw it across the room.

"What are you doing?" she asked with a flustered tone. "That was the great grandson of a Czar."

He took her by the shoulders and narrowed his gaze on her. "What is his plan? What does a crown, a pig, and a burglar mean?"

"Have you gone mad?" She tried to wiggle out of his grip. "I have no idea what you're on about."

"Tell me Irene! I know you're his little spy," he bit out. She looked taken aback for a moment but recovered.

"Oh clever you. Well done."

"Tell me his plan," he said slowly.

"I. Don't. Know." She challenged him with her eyes. The two of them stared at each other for a long moment before something dawned on him.

"Oh of course." He let out a laugh. "He didn't mean you. He meant _her_. He told her the plan."

He released Irene and went flying back down the stairs. Irene stood there feeling a little confused. She walked over and picked her phone up off the floor.

"I want you out of the flat," Sherlock's voice came floating back up to her before the door shut.

* * *

><p>"Now Anita I know this might seem like the wrong time but…I need a statement from you," Lestrade said.<p>

She nodded. "I'll do what I can." Anderson and Donovan looked to each other.

"Right," began Lestrade, "what time were you taken?"

"Uhm it would have been six thirty in the morning." The Inspector nodded and wrote down her words.

"Okay and did you see who took you?"

"Yeah two men. One I recognized, he used to work at my old theater. Really sweet guy usually."

"And one of these men was Jim Moriarty correct?" he pushed.

She shook her head. "No, no the other was a bald man."

John let out a sigh along with Lestrade. They had both been to hopeful that there would be some way to put Moriarty behind bars.

"So you never saw Jim Moriarty then?"

"No I saw him Lestrade. He hired these men to take me. He came to the theater with them."

Lestrade nodded as he wrote. "Good. This is good, she had first hand sight of him and the other men."

"One of the others was dead when we got there," John added for the Inspector's notes. "The other must have run off."

"Right Anita so you saw Jim Moriarty." She nodded. "We can get him on kidnapping and life endangerment. Him being there the whole time keeping here there…"

"I don't know that," Anita broke in. Lestrade turned to her. "I don't know he was there the _whole_ time."

"How could you not know?" Donovan asked. "You were there weren't you?"

"Yeah but he drugged me," she said in a sour tone to the Detective. "I was really in and out most of the time."

Lestrade lowered his head and scratched something out in his notes. "Well there goes that."

"Wait no," John argued. "You could get him on kidnapping. She saw him for sure, for sure."

"Yes we can get him on that charge but would really put him away is life endangerment," Lestrade clarified. "She doesn't know he was there the whole time keeping her there. He could have drugged her and left suggesting that she could have gotten up and gone at any time."

"I was drugged and bound," Anita argued. "You really think I could have gotten up and left?"

"The court will certainly see it that way."

Anita flopped back against her pillows. Mrs. Hudson put an arm around her. John patted her hand for comfort.

"Well wouldn't it be enough right now to get him on kidnapping?" asked Molly.

Lestrade shrugged. "It's a start. Again it won't do much and won't keep him in for long. I'll get a report filed and start searching for him."

The three cops left the room. Just after they went, Doctor Greenwood came in with her charts.

"Good news Miss Watson you get to go home today. Everything is looking great." Everyone smiled in relief. "I just ask that you take things easy for a bit, no plays, or excessive work for the rest of the month. Doctor Watson can I get you to sign some things?"

John and the doctor walked out into the hall. Mrs. Hudson and Molly offered to help her get dressed but she wanted to do it on her own. They joined John out in the hall and gave Anita her privacy.


	17. I am Sherlocked

**Glad you guys picked up on the antidote that Sherlock had placed out of mind. **

Anita grabbed the bag of her belongings and began to dress. As she pulled out her jeans a little vial went clattering to the floor. After putting on her jeans she picked up the vial, recognizing it from the house they had gone to.

Looking it over she wondered if it was the poison bottle or the supposed antidote bottle. Holding it up to the light she noticed something inside. Anita unscrewed the lid and took out the little paper inside. Unrolling it she read the message out to herself.

"I was the one who saved you, not him." She sat on her bed looking the message over. John opened the door, wheelchair in hand.

"Hey ready to go my Eva?"

"Hmm?" She looked up from the message and smiled. "Yeah I am. Hey John do you know what this means?" She looked back to see him turned, talking to Mrs. Hudson.

"Did you say something Eva?" he asked looking back to her.

Anita tucked the note and the vial into her pocket. "No, nothing." She paused for a moment and thought. "John how did I get better?"

"No idea," he said pushing the wheelchair into the room. "The doctor said whatever it was went right out of your system. It's a miracle."

"Yeah but doesn't it seem weird?" She watched as her brother's eyes softened. He gave her a look that their mother used to give them when one of them was being silly.

"It was a miracle Anita. You escaped from Moriarty's death grip and not many have. I'm leaving it at that. I have no complaints."

She gave him a weak smile. "No, I don't either."

"Right ready to get home?"

She nodded. He kissed the top of her head and helped her into the wheelchair. The two of them, along with their landlady, headed for the exit. The three of them made it out to the waiting area just as Sherlock rushed in. Anita smiled widely upon seeing him.

"Sherlock," she said in a pleased voice. "I was wondering when I'd see you."

He walked directly to her and lifted her up out of the chair. John and Mrs. Hudson protested but he blocked them out. All his focus went to Anita. He held her in a firm grip so her legs wouldn't buckle under her.

"What did he tell you?" he pressed. "What did he say?"

"What? I don't…"

"Anita I need you to think. Close your eyes and think very hard."

She gave him a confused look. "Close my eyes? Why?"

Sherlock began to move in a circle, taking her with him. John sighed remembering his own experience with this. Sherlock had done the same thing while they were going up against the Black Lotus.

"Just do as he asks," John told her. "He wants you to access your memory."

"Think Anita, it is important." He continued to spin her around, praying that she would remember.

She closed her eyes and tried to think. What had Jim told her? Well that he loved her, why he loved, how it had happened…and then he poisoned her. No, no there was something else…the song. What song was it again?

"Anita think back to when he had you in the theater. Did he tell you anything to do with a crown, a pig, or a burglar?"

Right, the song wasn't important at the moment. What else did he say? She tried to bring herself back to the theater. After the song he had just talked, he poisoned her, kissed her, and said he had to go. That was it…wait…no. There was something else. 'Forget I was here'. No something before that. She could hear his voice but the words were mashed together. If only he hadn't drugged her up so much or she had a stronger will to fight it off.

As she was pulled around in a circle the words became more clear.

"I remember it," she said opening her eyes.

"Are you sure?" Sherlock asked. "The ordinary mind can retain information only so long."

"I remember…"

He raised his brow. "You know it word for word?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"I can tell you if you stop spinning me about."

Sherlock stopped, keeping her in his grip. Anita placed her hands on his arms to keep herself steady. Shaking her head the room stopped moving about. She took in a breath and repeated Jim's little rhyme.

"For my princess I will win fine jewels. To unlock the prison of her heart I have the tools. I can give her all the money in the world, for those who keep vaults are fools."

Sherlock gave her a smile before pulling her into a hug. Anita rested her head against his chest, happy to finally see him again. Listening to his heart beat, she felt warmth and comfort being in his arms. Finally he let her go and set her back down into the wheelchair.

* * *

><p>John helped Anita up the stairs, though she insisted she could walk perfectly fine. He brought her into the sitting room and set her in his chair. Mrs. Hudson stated she was going to the market to make whatever Anita wanted for dinner.<p>

"Don't fuss over her Mrs. Hudson," John called as the older woman went down the stairs. "She was faking the whole time."

"Yes I thought it would be a laugh to fake a poisoning," she said giving her brother a fake smile. John made a face at her and tussled her hair.

Anita grabbed one of the pillows from the chair and chucked it at John. Sherlock chuckled as it hit him directly in the face. John in turn hit both of them with the pillow before going into the kitchen to make tea. Anita looked over to the lengthy man sitting in the chair across from her.

"Dear me Mr. Holmes, I believe you are smiling."

His smile slipped a little. "Really? Hu. Annoying habit that's beginning to form." She smiled back at him.

"Ah I see she is still alive," came a smooth voice. They looked to see Irene, dressed in her best, just finishing putting on an earring.

"Aww gee Irene I can tell you were really concerned," Anita said letting her smile turn sour. "Are those worry lines I see on your forehead?"

Irene flashed her a smile. "Your sarcasm is refreshing Anita. I've missed it so."

Sherlock stood rigidly. "I thought I told you to get out of the flat," he said with a bitter look.

Irene let out a breath. "Oh calm yourself Holmes. I was just leaving. Got my great grandson to see. I'll be round for supper tonight."

"No you won't," he shot back. "You're not going to set foot in this flat again. In fact don't even come back to Baker Street."

Irene tilted her head. "Come now lover…"

Sherlock pointed to the door. "Get out."

Irene's eyes sparkled with danger. She stepped into the sitting room and stopped close to Anita's chair. "Anita darling do you know why you are sitting here and now alive?"

John walked in from the kitchen, prepared to take The Woman down verbally or physically if she hurt his sister. Sherlock narrowed his gaze at her, mind working all the while to figure out what she was scheming.

"No, not really," answered Anita looking up to the glorious woman.

"I thought not." She walked over towards Sherlock. Gesturing to him with a perfectly manicured hand she said, "Meet the man who prolonged your death."

John looked between Irene and his friend. "Sherlock?"

He wished John wouldn't look at him like that. "I didn't realize he had given me the antidote," he clarified. He picked up the vial off the desk. "I almost had it figured out, I swear it to you," he said looking between brother and sister. "At least I wasn't the cause of her true suffering."

"What?" John and Anita asked in unison. Irene shrugged.

"It was business."

"Business, yes. Speaking of you being Jim's little _rat_, you'll know of his plans."

"What plans?"

"The crown, the pig, and the burglar. For my princess I'll win fine jewels. To unlock the prison of her heart I have the tools. I can give her all the money in the world, for those who keep vaults are fools." Irene raised an eyebrow.

"Cute poem. What does it mean?"

Sherlock held up her phone. "You tell me."

Her eyes went wide. "Give that to me Sherlock."

He shook his head and looked at the front screen. **I am _ _ _ _ locked **stared back at him. "The pass code if you please." Irene held her hand out for the phone. "Pass code."

"I'm not telling you." He shrugged.

"Have it your way," Sherlock pushed her aside. "Let me get you a cab."

He walked out of the sitting room and down the stairs. Anita stood and fixed a glare on Irene.

"You're the reason why Jim found me. You're the reason I almost died," Anita accused.

Irene rolled her eyes. "Calm yourself little Watson. Wouldn't want you back in the hospital."

"You did all of this because Jim asked you to?"

"Don't be so selfish. I had my orders but I stayed on for my own reasons."

"Those reasons being?" questioned John.

"Sherlock," she answered simply.

"Why?" Anita asked as her heart thumped harder. "To make him like you? Oh no…it was to make him _love _you." She laughed. "You and Jim…always forcing your love on people the wrong way."

"I wanted to get into his head," Irene bit out defensively. "Nothing more."

Anita laughed. "You'll never be able to get to him. No one will ever get into his head because it's who he is." She shook her head. "Don't you see? It's in the name…Sherlock is Sher_locked_."

"Say that again." They turned to see him standing in the doorway. Anita hesitated. "Say what you did word for word."

"It's in the name. Sherlock is Sher_locked_," she repeated. He smirked and looked to Irene with amusement.

"Oh," he chuckled. "This is brilliant. Dear Irene, never thought you could be so, what's the word…"

"Clever," she offered.

"A royal bitch," offered Anita.

"Foolish," confirmed Sherlock. "On your website you always mention how one should never let your heart rule you." He typed in the first letter, **S.** "I always assumed love was a disadvantage. Thank you for the final proof." Second letter, **H**.

"Everything I said…it's not real." She kept her gaze on her phone. Tears began to brim at her eyes. Third letter, **E.** "I was just playing the game."

"I know." Fourth letter, **R.** "And this is just losing."

Irene felt her heart drop straight down to her feet. He held up the screen blaring **I am Sherlocked.** Irene looked away from it and gained composure.

"Did you really think I felt anything for you?" she asked trying to play it off. "This is all part of the game. We're still playing."

"I know you felt something for me," Sherlock said as he began to search through her phone. "It wasn't the game."

"Why do you say that? Because you're Sherlock Holmes? The man in the funny hat?"

He looked up from her phone and walked closer to her. Leaning in he whispered, "Because I took your pulse."

Irene thought back to the night after the 'break in' of Moriarty's thugs. Anita had been asleep on the couch while Irene asked Sherlock to bed. She had taken his hand and rested her head on his chest. His index and middle finger ran up and down her wrist. Of course…he had done it then.

"Sherlock…I…" A horn honked outside.

"I believe your cab is here Miss Adler. You can show yourself out." Sherlock turned away from her and plopped back down in his chair, searching through her phone. "John has the kettle boiled yet?"

Irene stood there for a moment. John went back into the kitchen and Anita resumed her seat. Finally they heard Irene's heels click down the stairs and out the door. John brought out the tea and poured it for them. Anita kept watch on Sherlock as he went through Irene's phone.

"Are you alright?" she asked finally.

"Peachy Anita." He stood from his seat and headed for his room. On the way out he said over his shoulder, "No tea for me actually John."

They watched as he walked out and heard his bedroom door shut.


	18. Set me free

They had been sitting in front of the telly for hours. John's head began to droop as his eyes began to close. Anita sat there staring at the screen but wasn't really focused on it. Finally John's head dropped completely, the jerking motion waking him for a moment. He cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes.

"You looked like dad doing that," Anita said in a flat tone.

John groaned. "Don't compare me to him." Stretching he looked at the clock on the mantle. "Blimey its three in the morning. I have stuff to get done tomorrow," he yawned.

"Tomorrow is Saturday. What do you have to get done?"

"Mary wants to go on holiday. I need to get traveling arrangements sorted. We were going to go to Paris for a couple days…"

"What do you mean were?" she asked looking over to him. "You're going aren't you?"

John sat back in his chair. "We're not going to Paris. We're just going somewhere closer. I don't want to be too far from you."

Anita gave him a look. "John don't do that. Go to Paris! I want you to go. Plus I don't want this Mary to start hating me. I haven't even met her yet."

John ran a hand over his face. "I'll think about it. Come on now, you should get some sleep."

They both got up and turned off the TV. Anita headed for the stairs to go down to her flat. John stopped her before she got too far.

"No, no I want you to stay up here with us tonight."

"Why?" she asked in a tired tone. He waved for her to come back up the stairs. "John," she whined.

"Anita I would feel better if you were here with me and Sherlock. I'll take the couch." Anita argued with him but John wasn't having it.

Anita trudged her way back up the stairs. "I will only do it if you promise to go to Paris for holiday."

John sighed and thought. "Fine," he gave in. "I'll call Mary in the morning. Now off you go." He pointed for her to go to his room.

She began to walk but stopped. "Will you sit with me till I fall asleep?"

John agreed. They walked into the room and flopped down on the bed. John was fast asleep the second his head hit the pillow. Anita remained awake, unable to sleep, thinking over everything. Most of her thoughts always came back to Jim and his love. At one point she entertained the thought of if she could have feelings for him in return.

He was wonderful as Richard Brook. If she could have that man back she could see them being together. But the nagging reminder that Rich Brook was a lie wormed its way back in. Then Sherlock came to mind. She smiled when thoughts of him came. Remembering how he held her on the stage, how he smiled, how he made her heart skip and jump.

Anita wondered what it meant when she thought about Sherlock and Irene together and felt a knot grow inside her. Jealousy, surely. So did that mean she loved Sherlock? She must, for her heart broke for him when Irene's deceptions were laid out in the open.

She was glad to have Irene out of the flat now. Anita didn't like having the extravagantly beautiful creature hanging around, taking Sherlock's attention. Especially after learning that she had stayed on only to get into his head, to play with him like a cat plays with string. Anita felt bad for Sherlock. After learning that Irene was a pawn of Moriarty's, he seemed to be genuinely hurt though he didn't show it or say it outright. Anita was learning to read little quirks of his and could see it in his eyes.

Finally she let out a yawn and began to settle into the bed. Just as her eyes closed a muffled sound reached her ears. Looking around she wondered what it was. It almost sounded like a mobile. She reached into the pocket of her sweatpants and took out her phone.

"Earth angel, earth angel will you be mine?"

Anita looked down at her phone in horror. She slid her phone up to read the text.

**Sweet dreams angel. I'll be dreaming of you. **

Anita closed her phone and threw it to the end of the bed. She contemplated waking John but left him to sleep. She sat up looking at her phone. Over and over she told herself that he was just trying to wind her up. That was all, just trying to get under her skin and wind her up. It wasn't until the sun began to come that she finally closed her eyes. At some point in the afternoon she woke and found John gone. Getting up she made her way into the sitting room. A note was attached to the door.

'Anita, gone to Paris with Mary. Be back in a couple of days. If you need anything please don't hesitate to call. Sherlock is home if you need him.'

An arrow stemmed from the last line and led down to another note.

'Won't be home much. If needed contact the hospital.'

Anita was glad that John had gone on holiday like they had planned. It was good for him to get out and have fun. Content with having the flat to herself, Anita sprawled out on the couch and let out a breath of relaxation. Just as she got comfortable her phone went off.

'Earth angel, earth angel will you be mine'.

Anita covered her ears and tried to push out the sound. That song was traumatizing and sickening. What had he done to her? The song stopped and she relaxed a bit. Anita made a mental note to tell Sherlock or John that Jim was contacting her. Maybe they would be able to use those messages as proof he was involved with the kidnapping.

Once again she settled into the couch and once again her phone disrupted it.

"Ugh." She dragged herself up and went to John's room to grab her phone. "Not happening." She looked at the caller ID and answered, "Lestrade can I just…"

"Need you to come in Anita sorry," came his voice. "We got your janitor kidnapper. Need you to identify him and get a written statement from you."

Her shoulder slumped and her head dropped. "Yeah okay. Be there in a bit."

After hanging up she hesitated to see the message Jim had sent. Taking in a breath she opened the message.

**Good morning my sweet. Sleep well? **

With shaky hands she typed in a response.

**Leave me alone**.

The men were lined up in a row. Anita stood behind the tinted glass with Lestrade and Donovan by her side. She picked out the man right away and told Lestrade that he was the janitor at The Little Tudor Theater.

"Right Donovan take Anita to a separate room and have her fill out a statement." Lestrade left the room and instructed another officer to take the man she had identified to a holding cell.

"Okay then come with me." Donovan led Anita to a different part of the station. She opened a door and gestured for Anita to go in. It was a small grey room with one table, one chair, and a security camera. "So just fill out a statement about your kidnapping, sign, and date it at the bottom. Be as detailed as possible. When you're done an officer will be along to collect."

Anita nodded. She took the paper and pen offered and sat at the table. Sally watched the girl for a moment.

"I told him, you know." Anita looked up from the paper. "I told your brother to stay away from Sherlock Holmes…and look what's happened."

Anita sighed. "Do you ever give it a rest?"

Sally gave her an innocent look. "I warned him and now I'm warning you. One of these days there will be a body and Sherlock will be the one who put it there. I'm just saying is all."

"Yeah well go say it to someone who cares. Like your boyfriend, Anderson." Sally glared at her. "Bye then," Anita said with a smile. Donovan shut the door and left the girl to her work.

Anita sat in the room for an hour writing out her kidnap story. She was just finishing up when a knock came at the door. Without looking up from her paper she heard the officer come in and stand next to her.

"Done with your statement miss?"

"Yeah." She signed and dated the document. "Here you…" She looked up and froze. This had to be a dream. He couldn't be standing there, he just couldn't. She scrambled out of her chair, tipping it over.

"That wasn't a very nice text you sent me this morning." He picked up the chair. "I was expecting something along the lines of good morning love." He put on a hurt look as he walked a little closer to her.

"Well you did poison me," she said edging along the table. She could see the open door in the corner of her eye. "I'm still a little cross. Forgive me."

Jim tilted his head. "Oh don't be cross darling. I had always planned to give you the antidote. And it's not my fault Sherlock was too thick to use the one I gave him."

So close now. She could almost reach the door. Getting a hold of it she pushed the table towards him, knocking him off balance for a moment. Anita ran for the door but it slammed shut before she could get out. Jim stood across from her, hand over the door, blocking her way.

"Where were we running to?" he asked with a menacing look in his eyes. She backed up, he followed her. Catching sight of the security camera she began to blink in a series. Jim watched her with fascination. "Good! Oh very good," he said impressed. "Blinking S.O.S. like captured soldiers do. Oh Johnny boy has taught you well."

"Someone will come to help me any minute."

He raised his eyebrow, an amused look coming to his face. "That right?" He turned and looked to the camera. He waved at it before turning back to her. Making a face he said, "No I don't think so love. It's been disconnected."

"That how you got in? Disconnected all the cameras?" She thought for a moment. "No, no that would be too easy. You like risk. There is someone in this office who owes you or you threatened them."

He smiled. "Just so. It's good to have friends in low places. You've got me all figured out don't you? You clever minx you. I like my girl to be smart."

"I'm not your girl," she bit out. He gave her a smile.

"Oh yes you are Anita. When will you admit your feelings for me?"

She let out a laugh. "I don't have _feelings_ for you."

"You had feelings for Richard Brook." She stopped backing up. He nodded and continued forward till he was right in front of her. "There it is. The longing, the want. I can bring that back, I can bring him back."

She knew her eyes were betraying her but she asked all the same, "Why would I want him back?"

He simply smiled at her and swept a hand through her hair. "It would come at a price though. Everything does these days." He rested a hand around her neck.

"And what price is that?"

He looked her up and down. "We'll talk about that when you're committed to the idea. For now think on it." He turned away from her and headed for the door. Before opening it he turned back to her. "Oh and let's keep this little tête-à-tête between us. I hardly need to threaten you…needless to say whoever you tell about this, the next time you see them will be in the morgue."

He winked at her and shut the door.

Tossing and turning most of the night, Anita found no peace. She kept replaying the event of the day over and over.

_After he had gone she had run out of the room straight to Lestrade. Desperate to tell him that Jim Moriarty had just been in the building she demanded the Inspector's attention. _

"_What is it Anita?" he had asked her. "Everything alright?" _

"_Lestrade," she began. However she stopped upon seeing a red dot appear on the man's chest. Anita didn't need long to understand what was happening. _

"_Anita?" _

"_Uhm…I wanted to give you my statement." She handed him the paper. _

"_Ah cheers," he had said taking the paper. Anita watched the red dot hover around the man's heart. "Now I know John is on holiday so if you need anything just call." _

_She smiled gratefully at him. "Ta then." _

_Turning and walking out of his office she tried to see if she could spot the culprit. But there was no one in sight who could possibly have taken aim. Before getting too far she turned to look back. The red dot was gone, Lestrade was safe. _

Every time she closed her eyes all she could see was Jim' face. Turning on her back she let out a noise of frustration. She was ready to get up and just watch telly when she heard the front door shut and footsteps come up the stairs. Sitting up she heard a violent tune drift down to her. He was home.

Anita's heart swelled at the thought of Sherlock being home. Throwing off the covers she got up and checked herself in the mirror. She smoothed out her hair a bit and straightened out her shirt, that was as good as it was going to get. Anita opened the door to John's room and walked out to the sitting room. Sherlock moved about the room, violin in hand with its angry tune filling all empty space. She stood in the doorway silent.

"You should be resting," he said without turning to look at her. "You've barely been out of hospital a day."

She came into the room. "I can't sleep."

He turned to look at her, still playing. "Did I wake you?"

Anita shook her head and sat at the desk. "I find it quite calming actually."

Sherlock smirked. "This is the angriest tune I've played." Anita smiled.

"Yeah I know. But there is something about it…" He continued to play and walk about the room. She could see his expression start to match the tune. "What are you angry about?"

He finished the tune, sending the bow across the strings and making the violin wail. "Everything. Moriarty getting away with what he's done. Lestrade being so incredibly thick and idiotic. He knows it was Moriarty but he won't admit it. He won't take my word, which is worth so much to start with, and he won't do anything about it."

Sherlock's tone grew more anxious and tense as he spoke. He began to pace in front of the mantle like a cadged lion.

"Well I went in to day and identified one of Jim's men," she said hoping that would make him happy. "They have him in custody now. Surely they will get him to talk and he will give them Jim's name. That must be good enough for now."

Sherlock tossed his violin into his chair. "No it's not enough!"

Before either of them knew what happened, Sherlock's fist went into the mirror above the fireplace. The glass cracked and the corner of it broke into little pieces that inserted into his hand. Blood began to drip down his hand. Anita stood and took Sherlock over to the table in front of the couch. She made him sit there while she got the first aid kit out of John's room.

Coming back out she grabbed a pair of tweezers Sherlock had been using for his test. She wiped the tweezers off and began to carefully remove the glass. Sherlock winced every once in a while but for the most part just watched her remove the glass. He was fascinated by the contrast of his hand resting in hers. Her hand was cool and small compared to his blood warm larger hand. Once all the glass was removed she gently cleaned the wounds and began to bandage his hand.

"You're very good at that," he said watching her.

She smiled. "When John was at uni he would practice bandaging on me and Harry. Mum used to say he made us look like mummies. He would practice till every inch of us was covered in gauze."

Sherlock smirked. "Yes that does rather sound like John. You love him a lot don't you?"

She gave him a look. "He's my brother. Of course I love him. But I suppose you think that's silly." He didn't answer. After a moment she spoke again. "Do you really think love is a disadvantage?"

"Strongly. Look what it's gotten me so far."

Anita finished wrapping his hand. "So you loved Irene then?"

He looked at her a little surprised. "No. There is another, who is close to me, who has been hurt too many times on my account."

Anita nodded while she packed up the first aid kit. "John you mean."

Sherlock took her hand in his wounded one. "No. He is the wrong Watson this time."

He placed his other hand on her cheek. Realization hit her, lighting her eyes. Anita placed a hand over the one that rested on her cheek. Looking into his vivid blue eyes she found her heart to be thumping as loud as ever.

"You say love is a disadvantage," she said in a hushed voice. "I've heard it said love is a lie that will set you free."

"So set me free."

Sherlock closed the distance and placed a kiss to her lips. An electric sensation ran through his body, causing his heart to stop and start again. The kiss was drastically different from Irene's. Anita was soft and gentle, loving and giving. He broke away and kissed her again feeling the sensation all over again.

Anita's mind and heart soared as his lips connected with hers. Over and over he kissed her, broke away, and kissed her again. His lips became demanding and she met the demand willingly.

**AN: I was thinking a good song for Sherlock/Anita would be Staplegunned by Spill Canvas. Since Jim/Anita have Earth Angel I felt Sherlock needed a song. What do you think? **


	19. The wolf and his doe

How did he get so lucky? How was it that this girl, this lovely, sarcastic, girl could love him? But it wasn't luck he told himself. Nothing happens without a reason; he refused to believe in coincidence. She loved him because that's the way the chemistry worked out and their chemistry could destroy their world.

Sherlock looked over at the girl sleeping next to him. He swept a hand over her hair causing her to stir. Anita opened her eyes and smiled at him. He sank back down into pillow and faced her.

"Dreaming about me were you?" Anita began to blush making him smile.

"That's not fair. I'm an open book to you." She tangled her fingers in his hair. "You're like vault and there are a thousand combinations."

"Sher_locked_ isn't that how you put it?" he asked moving her hand down so he could kiss her palm. She nodded.

"One of these days I'll have the tools to open that vault," she smiled. Sherlock's eyes lit up and whatever joy he was feeling drained. "What?"

"Why did you say that just now?"

She gave him a curious look. "Say what?"

"_That_. Vault…tools. It's what he said." Sherlock got up and paced in front of the bed. Anita sat up and watched him. "He's wormed his way into your mind," he said sounding almost sad.

"Jim," she said with a sigh. Anita shook her head. "That poem…I don't even know what it means. Did you find anything on Irene's phone?"

"No," he said in a tight tone. As he paced he began to recite the poem over and over. Anita drew her keens up to her chest and rested her chin.

"Sherlock there is no use thinking it to death. Just sit and…"

He stopped pacing and turned on her. "What Anita? You want me to relax is that it? Oh yes because just sitting in bed for hours, lazing about the flat is perfect while Moriarty runs amuck! How can you be so dull and simple?"

Anita stood. "Don't you blow up at me Sherlock Holmes! It's not like I asked to be the apple of his twisted eye." Sherlock's expression softened. Just as he was about to speak her phone went off in the next room.

'Earth angel, earth angel will you be mine?'

Anita shivered. Sherlock looked her over. Goosebumps, brow furrowed with worry, eyes avoiding the room where her phone was. Her shoulders were tense and ridged, hands formed into fists. She was frightened.

"What's the matter?" She shook her head.

"Nothing. Just…you're right." She looked to him and nodded. "You're right. We need to figure this out. I'll be back."

Anita walked past him and went to John's room. She picked her phone up off the bedside table. Sliding it open she opened the text.

**Be seeing you real soon. Everything I promised you will happen. Have you thought about my offer? **

Anita closed her phone and shut her eyes. His offer. Bring back Richard Brook, have a semi-normal life with him, but at a price. What price? It would be something she would have to do no doubt, something she would regret. It would most likely have to do with hurting someone she cared for.

As she thought a hand came down on her shoulder. She turned to see Sherlock standing behind her. He tucked her hair behind one ear as she threw her phone on the bed.

"I'm not very good at this…relationship thing," he confessed.

She nodded. "I've noticed." He smiled and let out a laugh. Anita stretched up and kissed him lightly. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to strengthen the kiss.

* * *

><p>John held the cab door open for Mary. He got her things out of the trunk and told the cabbie to wait for him. Mary smiled as he came walking back to her.<p>

"I thought we were going back to your flat," she said picking up her things and taking them inside. John helped her by holding the door open. "I wanted to meet Anita."

"I know Mary but I just want to wait." Mary gave him a look.

"Afraid she won't approve?" John shook his head and wrapped an arm around her waist.

"She already thinks the world of you." He gave her a kiss. "I just want to wait and get someone else to used to the idea."

Mary gave him a knowing smile. "Sherlock. Alright," she sighed. "Don't take too long getting him used to the idea of me. Thank you for a lovely holiday and give Anita my best."

She gave him a kiss before he returned to the cab. He was glad that Anita had pushed him to go to Paris with Mary. They had a wonderful time and he really enjoyed being away from work, Moriarty, police matters, and yes even Sherlock. But now it was time to get back home and check on his Eva. Though he was away and had a good time, it didn't stop him from worrying about his little sister.

After lugging his things inside, John went directly to her flat to find her. It was noon by now but there was no trace of her. Perhaps she was in the sitting room watching telly while Sherlock did his experiments. But no such luck as he came up the stairs and found the sitting room empty, well save the papers that were strewn around. John dropped his things off in his room and took a look at the papers in the sitting room.

The poem Jim had told Anita was scribbled out on a paper tacked to the mirror. The little crown, pig, and burglar sat on the desk. Every possible meaning for them sat under each object. John looked at some of the papers, recognizing Sherlock's horrific handwriting. He had thought this poem over to the extent of dissecting each word and its meaning in the English language. John shook his head and set the papers back down.

He turned and went out of the room, heading for Sherlock's door. He knocked once before opening the door. Sherlock was sitting on the bed in his night clothes looking over some more papers.

"Sherlock have you seen Anita? I can't…"

Sherlock pressed his index finger to his lips. "Shh John you'll wake her. I tuckered her out, she needs rest," he whispered. He nodded to the girl sleeping in the bed. John nodded and shut the door. He began to head for the sitting room once again when he stopped and processed what he had seen and been told.

John walked back to Sherlock's door just as his friend came out.

"How was your blissful holiday?" Sherlock asked. "Who did you go with? Betty? No it was Karen right?" John stood there with a death glare set on his friend. "You only give me that look when I'm being insensitive. What have I done now?"

"You slept with my little sister," John said through gritted teeth. "Tuckered her out? You despicable, son of a…"

Sherlock's eye went wide. "No, no, no, no. Dear John," he laughed. "You are so quick to assume sometimes. That's not at all…"

Before he could finish John threw a punch. His fist connected with Sherlock's high cheekbone, sending a fiery pain through his hand. Sherlock recovered, shaking his head to make sure of what just happened. John shook his hand out, cursing under his breath. Sherlock reached back and sent his own fist into John's face.

"There," he said straightening out his shirt. "Now we are even. Now if you'd let me explain…" John gained composure and turned fuming eyes upon his Consulting Detective. "John…"

He tackled the other man to the floor, knocking the breath out of him. The two men tumbled about, hitting each other, until they reached the sitting room where John got Sherlock into a headlock.

"John," choked out the other man. "Just let me explain things to you…"

"You will remember Sherlock I was a soldier. I killed people," he responded not easing up his grip.

Sherlock's brow furrowed. "You were a doctor!"

"I had bad days!"

The two men crashed to the floor once again.

* * *

><p>Anita was woken by the sound of Sherlock's phone. With eyes still closed she reached for the phone on the bedside table. Flipping his phone open she finally opened her eyes. With a yawn she regarded the message. Reading it through she jolted upright and threw the covers off her. Anita ran out of the room, mobile in hand, and heard noises coming from the sitting room. Walking in she saw her brother and his friend on the floor. Each had the other in a headlock.<p>

"What are you doing?" The moment she spoke they let go of each other.

"Nothing," Sherlock said kicking John in the leg.

"Ow." John returned the kick. Sherlock sat up and rubbed his leg. Anita gave the both of them a strange look.

Holding Sherlock's phone out to him she said, "It's him. He's back."

Both men froze and stared at her. Finally Sherlock took the phone and read over the massage. Immediately he called Lestrade to get more information. Anita walked over to John and helped him up.

"What were you two doing?"

"Fighting," he said brushing himself off. She gave him a quizzical look. "He…took advantage of you."

Anita let out a little laugh. "Oh for the love of…he didn't John. We've been working on this poem since yesterday. I didn't fall asleep until six this morning. And he," he pointed to Sherlock, "hasn't slept at all."

"Oh," John answered lamely. "So…so you two are…" He looked between them. "Together?"

She nodded. "Yes I suppose. It only just happened."

He nodded. "I see. Well that's…that's just…I mean him really? Thought you two couldn't stand each other." She shrugged. "Right. That's just weird."

Anita punched his shoulder. "Shut up John."

He put a hand up to his shoulder. "Hey that's the shoulder I got shot in mind."

"Oh I'm sorry," she said in mock concern. "Would you like me to punch twice as hard next time?"

"Cow."

"Git."

"Right," finished Sherlock. "We'll be along soon." He closed his phone and turned back to the pair of them. "Moriarty has broken into the Tower of London, the bank of England, and Pentenville prison. Looks like your maniac has been busy," he said looking to Anita.

"Well you have your answers to the poem," John added. Anita and Sherlock looked to him with curiosity. John walked over to the little figures on the table. He picked them up one by one as he spoke. "Crown jewels, Tower of London. Pig, Bank of England. Burglar, Pentenville prison."

"Oh yes of course!" Sherlock walked over to where John was. "Once again he was telling us flat out what he was going to do. But why do that? Why show off?"

"Because he's mad," offered John.

Sherlock shook his head. "No because that's what show offs do. He wanted to get caught this time."

"He'll be taken to court then yes?" Anita voiced.

"Yes they'll bring him to trial. I suspect Lestrade will also try to bring up the kidnapping charges."

Anita began to wring her hands. "That'll mean I have to testify won't it." It wasn't a question.

Sherlock and John looked to her. The worry was clear in her eyes. The lengthy man walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. He gave her a loving look, which took her aback for a moment. For a split second she wasn't sure if he was putting on his human act to make her feel better or if this look was genuine.

"You know John and I will be right there with you."

John nodded. "We're not going to let anything happen to you. You know that Anita."

She nodded and smiled at her two protectors. Though she put on a brave front for them, inside she was screaming.

* * *

><p>The three of them waited for the car to come round and pick them up. Anita helped John straighten his tie. The Watsons had dressed nicely for the court hearing while Sherlock had just thrown on his usual.<p>

"Now," John said as they stood in the foyer. "Sherlock remember what Lestrade said…"

"Yes," he answered shortly.

John was silent for a moment before continuing on. "Remember what Lestrade said…"

"Yes."

"Can I finish?"

"No because it is boring me." Sherlock placed his hands behind his back and smiled at John.

"Lestrade said not to get smart. The judge has no tolerance for…well smart asses." Sherlock's smile grew. "So when we get to the court just stop all of…this," he said waving a hand at his friend.

"You just gestured to all of me."

"I know." Sherlock's smile dropped. A car horn honked outside. "Ready?" Sherlock and Anita nodded.

John took in a breath and opened the door. Just as he thought there were photographers waiting outside. News reporters called their names, asking if they had a moment to speak, asking if they had a statement to give. Sherlock led the way to the car. John followed him keeping a tight hold of Anita, keeping her by his side so she wouldn't fall victim to the reporters.

The three of them piled into the car and took off for the court. The whole ride over John and Sherlock argued about the difference between being respectful and being rude beyond belief. Anita sat silently listening to the two men. Finally they arrived at court and were ushered in. Anita sat next to John while Sherlock was off preparing to give his statement against Jim Moriarty.

Everyone gathered into the court. Officers brought Jim in last, in a fine suit and handcuffs. Anita's stomach flipped at the sight of him. She watched as a policewoman came up to him to check the cuffs were secure. Jim turned his attention on her and said something causing the woman to dig inside his trouser pocket. Anita hated herself for feeling a pang of jealousy. The woman placed gum in Jim's mouth before leaving. The gavel dropped and the hearing began.

John reached over and took hold of his sister's hand. He gave it a light squeeze to reassure her.

* * *

><p>Sherlock was the first to be called up. While giving his statement, his annoying habit kicked in. He corrected the judge more than once, he criticized the questions being asked, and analyzed the jury. Jim was more than amused, it was easy to see. Sherlock became even more annoyed that his arch enemy was enjoying this. Jim gave him a knowing smile, silently saying how predictable Sherlock Holmes was.<p>

Sherlock looked to John and Anita for support but got none. John gave him a disapproving look, like any parent would do to their child. And Anita looked miles away, her mind locked on some other event. Sherlock's smile dropped and he was threatened with being held in contempt. Well there was no use in playing games. He had given his statement and had an urge to annoy the old judge.

The bailiff escorted Sherlock out of court to the holding cells. The judge announced they would have a break at this point.

"For the love of God," John said with a sigh. "I'm going to see if I can bail him out."

He stood and left Anita to herself. She sat and watched the officers take Jim back to his holding cell before she got up.

* * *

><p>She wiped her mouth as she straightened up from getting water. As she was about to walk back to her seat someone called her name.<p>

"Anita Watson?" She turned to see an officer coming up to her. Another one came up on the other side.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Moriarty has requested an audience with you," said the other officer.

She looked to him and shook her head. "I don't want to see him. I want nothing to do with him."

"Afraid you'll have to come with us miss," said the first officer. He unhooked his gun from his belt. "Don't make a fuss."

Anita's shoulders slumped. "For fu…" She sighed. "Alright fine."

The officers led her along to the holding cells. She looked in each one to see where Sherlock had been placed. But all of them were empty. John must have bailed him out and was sending him on his way home. Anita cursed under her breath, just her luck. The officers stopped in front of the last holding cell and brought down a slot in the door. Anita walked up to it and peered in to see Jim pacing. He stopped and turned towards her.

"Hello darling. I've missed you."

"Leave me alone can't you!"

He gave her a sad look, placing a hand over his heart. "Such harsh words. And after I got you everything I promised. Jewels, a free heart, and all the money in the world. And that's just half of what I can do." He walked closer to the door. "Have you thought about my offer?"

"No," she answered curtly. He raised a eyebrow. "I don't want Rich Brook back. I don't want any version of you."

Jim's eyes grew cold. "It's because of him isn't it? _Sherlock bloody Holmes_. Don't deny it."

"I'm not," she shrugged. "You're going away for a long time Jim. I'm glad to be rid of you."

He gave her a smile, but there was no joy in it. "You're going to regret that answer."

"I regret the day I met you. I regret ever setting my eyes on you." She shook her head. "You make me sick. Sherlock was right. You're not a man, you're a spider and I'm just a fly caught in your web."

His lips became a thin line, jaw set, eyes dead. Anita felt a nervous flutter in her heart. She stepped away from the door and began to head back down the hall to the court.

"Everything comes with a price!" he called after her. "Be prepared to pay it!"

* * *

><p>"We call to the stand Miss Anita Evangelista Watson."<p>

Anita swore in and stood in the box nervously waiting. She could feel Jim's eyes on her like a target was on her chest.

"Miss Watson how did you meet Mr. Moriarty?"

Anita recounted meeting Jim at The Little Tudor Theater. She told of how he gave a false name and claimed to be a patron of the theater.

"And were you ever romantically involved with James Moriarty?" She hesitated here. Her eyes unwillingly went to him. He stood there, calm as ever, looking back at her.

"We went out once. From there we texted each other. Once I found out his true identity I stopped all communication."

"And sometime after that you filed a report that he kidnapped you. Is that correct?"

"Yes." As hard as she tried to look away she couldn't. Jim had her trapped in his gaze.

"Now in this report you said that he drugged you."

"He gave me something to sleep…a couple times I think." She paused trying to remember the hazy parts. "Then he poisoned me, sending me into hospital."

"He gave you something to sleep…do you remember him being there the whole time?"

"I…I think…" She shook her head. Jim tilted his head like a curious puppy. Only he was no puppy. He was like a ravenous wolf looking at a doe he wanted to tear to shreds.

"Miss Watson?"

"I can't be sure," she finally answered. The wolf's eyes gleamed with satisfaction while the doe finally looked away from him.

**I love you guys and your reviews! They make me so happy! **

**Okay so the "you just gestured to all of me…" is from How To Train Your Dragon. Also used the "I had my bad days…" from the Scandal in Belgravia. **


	20. Welcome to the tea party

The moment the front door closed Sherlock jumped up. He met the brother and sister at the top of the stairs.

"Well," he said eagerly. "You were there for the whole thing. What happened?" John and Anita walked past him into the sitting room. There they found a mannequin hanging from the door into the kitchen.

"Did you just talk to him for a long time?" John asked gesturing towards the dummy.

Sherlock glanced at it and shrugged. "Had to keep myself busy. C'mon John. Anita. Tell me something!"

John plopped down in his chair. "You were right. The defense just sat there on his backside. Never said a word."

Sherlock paced in front of him, hands pressed together as he so often did while thinking. "Moriarty is giving no defense."

"Three of the most secure places," added Anita. "Six weeks ago he breaks in, no one knows how or why." Sherlock nodded as he continued to pace. "All we know is…"

"He ended up in custody," finished Sherlock.

John sighed. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" Sherlock stopped and faced him.

"The look. You're doing the look."

Sherlock gave him a look. "The look?"

"You're doing the look again."

"Well I can't see it can I John?" John gestured to the mirror above the fireplace. Sherlock looked and shrugged. "It's my face…"

"Yes and it's doing a thing. It's the 'we both know what's going on here' face."

Sherlock nodded. "We do."

"No," corrected John. "I don't know what's going on. I doubt Anita has any clue, no offense sis. And that is why I find the face so annoying."

Sherlock let out a deep sigh. "Sometimes I forget how human you are. Right, if Moriarty wanted the jewels he'd have them. If he wanted the prisoners out, they'd be on the streets. He is sitting in a cell because he chose to be there. This is all part of his plot. I just don't know what it is."

John nodded and rubbed a hand over his face. "Well let's hope whatever it is can be dealt with. And soon. I don't want that man back on the streets." He looked over to his sister. "Especially when he's got his eye on you."

Anita gave him an appreciative smile. John announced that he'd had enough for the day and was off for bed. Anita and Sherlock remained in the sitting room. He watched for a moment as she swatted at the dummy like a cat with a toy.

"How did your statement go?" he asked finally.

She shrugged. "You're a tough act to follow but I managed." Moving away from the swinging dummy, she turned towards him. "It would have been easier if you had been there."

Sherlock closed the distance between them and cupped her face. "I'm sorry. I should have been thinking about that."

Anita wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. He in turn put his arms around her and leaned his cheek against her head. They stood there for a little just holding each other.

"I'm tired of all this," Anita spoke at last. "I want it to be done with. I just…just want to be able to be with you. To live my life without having to be afraid he is out there or watching me."

He kissed her head and made her look at him. "I promise you that's how it will be."

She nodded. "Can I stay with you tonight? I don't want to sleep alone."

He nodded and the two of them headed for his room.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Crayhill may we have your first witness," began the judge the next morning. The defense attorney stood. Hesitantly, he spoke.<p>

"We have no witnesses." The court gasped. "We will not be calling any witnesses your honor."

"But you have entered a plea of 'not guilty'," voiced the judge with a surprised tone.

The man nodded. "Yes but my client is offering no evidence." He paused. "The defense…rests."

John and Anita looked to each other. Both of them had the same expression of worry and confusion. People around them began to mumble and speculate.

"John?" she whispered to her brother. He took her hand and tried to give her a comforting look.

"It will be alright," he whispered back. "The jury can still find him guilty. There is still evidence against him."

"But what if they don't find him guilty?" The worry was clear in her voice. John opened his mouth to speak but they both knew the answer. Jim turned back to look at them. He gave them a shrug while making a face that said 'opse looks like you lose again'. They turned back as the judge slammed the gavel down and turned to the jury.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, James Moriarty stands accused of burglary, kidnapping, and life endangerment. These crimes, should he be found guilty, will place him in a prison sentence of life. The council is offering no evidence to support their claim. I find myself in the position to ask you for a verdict…you must find him guilty."

The gavel slammed and the jury was dismissed. During the break Anita and John sat outside the court. Anita prayed to every religion, every god and goddess, crossed her fingers, and repeated over and over: He is guilty. John sat next to her and began to chew on the tip of this thumb, a habit he hadn't indulged in since he was a teenager. They hadn't been sitting there long when the judge came walking past them.

"Coming back," he told the siblings. Anita came out of her chanting prayer and John released his thumb.

"It's only been…" he looked down at his watch, "six minutes."

"Surprised it took them that long to be honest."

Once everyone was back in the courtroom, the judge turned to the jury.

"Have you a verdict?"

A woman stood, the one Sherlock said was a medical student. She glanced at Moriarty and then back to the judge.

"We do your honor. We the jury find James Moriarty…_not_ guilty."

Anita felt a weight press down on her heart. John stood immediately, grabbing her hand, and walked out of court. Briskly he walked down the sidewalk, dragging Anita behind, and called Sherlock.

"Not guilty! They found him not guilty. No defense and Moriarty goes free," he said in disbelief. He shook his head and tugged at his sister, wishing she would walk faster. "Did you hear me? Sherlock he is out. You know he'll be coming after you and then he will come after her….Sherlock?"

The line went dead on the other side.

* * *

><p>Everything was ready. Sherlock had the tea set out, water piping hot in the kettle. Picking up his violin he turned his back to the door of the sitting room. He began to play a calm melody, knowing that Jim would be up at any moment. As he played he wondered if he should have unlocked the door. But no, Jim would want to feel some accomplishment, as if he had taken the great Sherlock Holmes by surprise. No it was better to let him pick the lock.<p>

Sherlock could hear the front door squeak open. Right on time. He played calmly until he heard a stair creek. He stopped for a moment, holding his foe in suspense. After a moment he began to play again, only stopping when the door to the sitting room wailed open.

"Most people knock," he said before the other man could speak. "But then I guess you're not most people." He turned to face his rival, the anti-hero. "Kettle has just boiled."

Jim walked in and picked up a red apple off the plate that was sitting on the table. He twirled it around in his hand as he looked about the room.

"Johann Sebastian would be appalled," he said referring to Sherlock's playing. He watched Sherlock's expression, enjoying winding him up like a toy. "May I?"

"Please." Sherlock gestured to John's chair. Jim glanced at it and moved into the other. Sherlock made a mental note to clean all traces of malice and evil off it before he ever sat there again.

Jim took out a small knife and dug it into the apple as he spoke. "You know when he was on his deathbed, Bach, he heard his son at the piano playing one of his pieces." He watched as Sherlock poured the tea. "And the boy stopped just as he got to the end…"

"The dying man jumped out of bed and ran to the piano and finished it," finished Sherlock.

"Couldn't cope with an unfinished piece," Jim added.

Sherlock nodded. "Neither can you. That's why you've come." He handed a cup and saucer to Jim.

"Be honest now, you're a bit pleased." Jim took the cup from his host, setting the apple down for a moment.

"What? With the verdict?"

Jim leaned forward and looked up at the other man. "With _me_. Back on the streets." He gave his fellow game player a wicked smile. "Every fairytale needs a good old fashioned villain." His smile widened.

Sherlock's brow furrowed. He picked up his own cup and took a seat. "Is that what this is? A fairytale?"

"You need me," Jim answered, ignoring the question. "Without me you'd be nothing. Because we're just alike you and I." Jim shrugged. "Except you're boring. You're on the side of the angels."

"The judge didn't seem to think so. Neither did the jury for that matter." Sherlock blew on his tea. "Speaking of…how did you get them to set you free?"

Jim gave him a look of disappointment. "I got into the Tower of London you think I can't worm my way into twelve hotel rooms?"

It clicked. "Cable network."

Jim nodded. "Every room has its own personalized screen. And every person has their own pressure point. I just have a knack for knowing that kind of thing." He took a sip of tea. "Easy peasy."

"So how you going to do it," Sherlock voiced before taking a sip. "Burn me?"

"Well that's the problem. The final problem, have you worked out what it is yet?" Jim asked with curiosity. Had this great man figured out his plans? Had the infamous detective dissected every inch of it yet? Sherlock almost looked confused. "What's the final problem? I did tell you…but did you listen?" he asked in a sing-song manner.

Sherlock watched the man opposite him for any tells. Was he blinking too much, did his cup shake in his hand, did he glance away, did he smile nervously. Nothing, not one sign. Jim Moriarty was the picture of calm and cool.

"How hard is it for you to say 'I don't know'?"

Sherlock set his cup down. "I don't know."

Jim let out a laugh. "Oh that's clever." Sherlock smirked. "Very clever boy," he said putting on a voice. "Speaking of clever, have you told your little friends yet?"

"Told them what?"

"Why I broke in to those places and never took anything?"

Sherlock shook his head. "No."

Jim sat back in his chair, picking up the apple once again. Sliding a piece into his mouth he said, "But you understand."

"Obviously," he replied sounding offended.

"Off you go then."

Sherlock tilted his head. "You want me to tell you what you already know."

"No I want you to _prove_ that you know it."

No time was wasted as the consulting detective dove right in. "You didn't take anything because…you don't need to."

Jim nodded in approval. "Good."

"You won't need to take anything ever again."

"_Very _good. Because…." He prompted.

"Because nothing, nothing in the Tower of London, the Bank of England, or Pentenville prison could possibly match the key you used to get into all three."

"I can open any door, anywhere with just a few little lines of computer code," he boasted. A small smile sat on his lips as he spoke. "No such thing as a private bank account now. They're all mine. No such thing as secrecy. I _own_ secrecy. Nuclear codes…I could blow up NATO in alphabetical order. In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king. And honey, you should see me in a crown," he said proudly.

A chill ran through Sherlock. "The trial…you were showing the world what you could do."

"And you were helping." He paused and slipped another slice of apple into his mouth. "But it wasn't just the world I was showing…" He glanced at Sherlock to see if it had clicked yet.

He could see the gears in Sherlock's head turning. "Why are you doing all this? You don't want money or power…not really. So what is it all for?"

Jim sighed but continued to smile. "So you weren't listening then." Cutting up more apple he began to hum a tune. Sherlock listened carefully to the song and placed it.

"Earth angel, earth angel will you be mine," he said in his deep voice. He shook his head. "Anita, she is the final problem. So then, this is your fairytale is it? Using your tricks to impress her, to make her want you?"

Jim's smile grew. "I don't need to impress her. She's already mine, body and mind. Anita might not know it but I've worked my way in. Some fairytale isn't it? Me as the villain, Lestrade as the wise king, John the dopey sidekick, you the noble knight, and fair Anita as the princess."

Sherlock leaned forward. He wanted to make sure Jim was locked under his gaze. "Are you sure you want this to be a fairytale? You do know that good _always_ triumphs over evil. And that's what I intend to do. The knight always gets the princess Jim."

Jim nodded. "Oh sure in a normal fairytale but this one isn't. This is a Grimm fairytale, where evil is always present and far outweighs the good. Are you prepared for that?" The two stared at each other for a long moment. "I wasn't kidding when I said you and I are alike. This one human girl made us feel, made us weak." He shook his head and laughed. "Well I'd better be off. Dopey sidekick and the princess should be home soon."

Sherlock watched the man stand up. He stood as well and watched Jim go to the door. He turned before leaving.

"I will burn you Sherlock," he said with a devious gleam in his eyes. "You can be sure of that."

"Sherlock!" John came bounding up the stairs. He looked about the room but didn't see him. John looked in the kitchen and found him there. "Sherlock," he breathed. "Moriarty…"

"I know," he answered, eyes buried behind his microscope. "He's already come and gone."

John looked around. The tray with tea still sat on the table. "Right…and you're okay? Nothing happen?"

"Oh you know…friendly threats here and there. Nothing I couldn't handle. Easy peasy." He paused and thought. Why had he used that wording? Damn Jim for working his way into everything! The jury, the Tower of London, Anita…

Speaking of their princess, she came up the stairs and into the sitting room. He got up and walked over to her. Looking at her he could see small traces of Jim. His curious look, the gleam in his eyes, the way he looked so calm and cool. Unable to stand seeing these traits in her, Sherlock pulled her to him. He smashed his lips to hers, kissing her furiously.

John groaned. "Could you two not eat each other's faces in front of me?"

Seeing that it wasn't going to stop he walked out of the room. Sherlock's kiss turned gentle after a while. Finally he parted from her. Anita stood there breathless.

She cleared her throat before speaking. "You sure everything is alright?"

"Everything is fine." He rested his forehead against hers. "Everything will be fine."


	21. Nothing satisfies me but your soul

Blue and red lights blared in the darkness. Anita prayed they were not out front 221 B Baker. As the cab got closer she could see a small crowd gathered around the front of the flat. She ran a hand through her hair and told the cabbie to stop. She paid him and got out, running up to the flat. As she reached the door Lestrade was bringing Sherlock out in handcuffs.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice climbing an octave. "Lestrade!"

"Stay out of this Anita. Alright? Just leave it." Lestrade gave her a stern look and walked off to talk to Donovan and another officer. Anita walked up to Sherlock as an officer kept him pressed against the car.

"Sherlock what is this? What's happened?" She looked around her at the different officers and passerby's who had gathered. "When you and John left this morning to find the kids…"

"It's Jim. This is part of his plan to burn me. Anita you're not safe right now." He looked around wondering if Jim was watching from some dark corner. Before he could continue John was slammed against the car. "Joining me?"

"John…"

He shrugged. "Yeah. Apparently punching the Chief Superintendent is against the law." Sherlock smirked. Anita sighed and caught sight of Donovan, who walked over to them.

"I told you…the both of you." John rolled his eyes. "Stay away from Sherlock Holmes," she glared at him. "But did you listen?"

"Give it up Donovan," John bit out.

"Donovan you stupid cow," Anita threw at her. "What have you done?"

Sally began to walk away. "Leave it Anita. I'm saving your life."

Anita pursued her. "Saving my life? More like condemning me to death!"

"I said leave it! Just back off Watson."

Anita turned Donovan around and threw her fist into the woman's face. Sally hit the pavement causing Lestrade to rush over. Sally got up and tried to take a swing at Anita. Lestrade restrained her. Sherlock and John watched on proudly.

"I knew I loved her for a reason," Sherlock said with admiration. John smiled, he had taught his sister well.

"Damnit Anita," yelled Lestrade. He passed Donovan off to another officer. "Now stop this! What's done is done. Go back in the flat or I will arrest you with them! Go on!" Anita stood there unmoving. "Anita so help me…"

Finally she turned away and walked over to where Sherlock and John were pressed against the car. She walked over to John and hugged him before turning to Sherlock and giving him a kiss.

"Go inside with Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock instructed. "Lock the door, let no one in." She nodded and walked over to her landlady.

Mrs. Hudson put an arm around Anita. "Oh dear…what do we do? They think Sherlock is the one who took those children. He didn't Anita. I know Sherlock, he would never…"

"I know Mrs. Hudson. Let's just hope Lestrade is as smart as I give him credit for."

Just then all the officers cried out in pain. A ringing sound could be heard as all of them hollered out in agony. Sherlock grabbed a gun off an officer and turned away from the car, dragging John along with him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," called out Sherlock. "Will you all please get on your knees." No one listened. He raised the gun and shot up into the air.

"Oh blimey," Lestrade said under his breath. "Right just do as he says," he called out to everyone. They followed directions.

"J-just so you're all a-a-aware," John stuttered, "the gun was his idea. I-I'm just a, a, a you know…"

Sherlock turned the gun onto John. "My hostage."

"Yes," John said breathless. "Hostage…good." John gave his sister one last look before he and Sherlock took off down the street. God he hoped she would be alright.

"Get after them Lestrade," ordered the Chief Superintendent.

Lestrade and Donovan headed for one of the patrol cars. All the officers headed for transportation, ready to pursue after the two men. As Lestrade made his way to a car he caught sight of Anita.

"Anita what did I say? Back inside! Now!"

Unwillingly she was dragged inside by Mrs. Hudson.

* * *

><p>Mrs. Hudson had gone to bed hours ago. Anita insisted she slept and not worry about the boys. With the older woman fast asleep, Anita made it her job to sit up and worry. What was going to happen to them? They were fugitives now and she feared Lestrade was starting to turn against them. After being in the sitting room for two hours, Anita made her way down to her flat. She flopped down on her still unmade bed and let out a long breath.<p>

Anita closed her eyes and tried to drift off to sleep. But it was no use. She just kept thinking about what was happening. As she lay there she heard the front door open and close. Excitedly she got up and ran out into the foyer.

But there was no one there. Anita looked around her, she was sure she had heard the door open. "Mrs. Hudson?" she called down the hall. No answer. She walked over to the stairs and looked up. "John? Sherlock?" Still no answer.

Feeling a shiver run down her spine, Anita ran back into her room. She shut the door and went right for her mobile. The cops would be back at the flat in seconds and she would feel safer. Anita picked up her mobile and slid it open but nothing happened. It couldn't be dead, she just charged it. She turned the phone around and found the battery was gone.

"Looking for this?" She spun around to find him sitting at her desk. Jim sat there not in his usual expensive suit. He looked very much not like himself. His hair was slightly messy, he was in jeans, a t-shirt, and a red hoodie. "We have to stop meeting like this. I would like to have you over to my place so we could have a proper chat…but now will do."

Anita wasted no time and ran for the door. Jim was up before her, blocking her way out just as he had in the station. He took Anita and pressed her against the door. His arms came on either side of her, trapping her there.

"Mrs. Hudson!" she called desperately. Jim shook his head.

"Sorry dove. She is o.u.t, out. Gave her a little something to help her sleep." He gave her a crooked smile. "I've just made a daring escape from your brother and your lover. Now you and I have some business to talk about."

"There is nothing I want to talk to you about."

"Oh I think there is," he nodded. "See I've been a bad boy. There's this reporter, not important to me, but helpful. Sherlock's fall is starting."

Anita's brow furrowed. "What fall? Jesus Jim what did you do?"

His smile grew. "I told you there would be a price to pay. I've come to collect." Jim leaned down closer to her. "You rejected me, rather rudely. The price for that is Sherlock's precious reputation. I've got that covered with the kidnapping and now with the reporter. Richard Brook is back alive and James Moriarty is on his deathbed."

Anita shook her head. "I don't understand."

"An article is out that I am Richard Brook, actor paid by one consulting detective to make him look good." Her eyes went wide with realization and horror. "Sherlock knows it's not true but he doubts. I have to say I did pretty well tonight. You should have seen the look on his face. It was as if he saw the devil himself."

"You are the devil," Anita replied bitterly. Jim looked her up and down.

"Devil's bride," he whispered to her. She looked away from him. "There's another price you owe me."

"Yeah? And what's that? My soul?"

"I already have that. No, no, no. What I want is something much more precious." He put his lips to her ear. "Your love."

Anita looked at him sharply. "You think I could love something like you?"

Jim shrugged. "I know that if you don't the people closest to you will die." He held up three fingers.

Tears began to sting her eyes. "Mrs. Hudson?" One finger went down. "Sherlock?" her voice cracked. Another finger went down. "John," she whispered. The last finger went down. A sob escaped her as she leaned heavily against the door.

"Shh, shh. There now Anita. Don't cry." He wiped away a couple tears with his thumb. "For your brother and Mrs. Hudson the death will be quick. One shot to the head by my expert and it's over. But for Sherlock…well I'm afraid he will have to suffer. He'll have to fall, quite literally. Off he'll pop, down he'll go, and then his humiliation of being a fake will be complete."

Another sob escaped her. Anita clapped a hand over her mouth as she shook and cried. Jim stroked her head trying to calm her. He pulled out his mobile and flipped it open.

"Now then, all I have to do is send this message and…BAM! Mrs. Hudson and Johnny boy are no more." He placed his finger of the send button.

"No! No please! Jim don't," she begged. He paused and too his finger away from the button.

"Tell me what I want to hear."

She opened her mouth but closed it again. Finally she spoke. "I can't." His finger went back on the button. "Wait! Wait, wait please. I…I just…want to know. Will you be Jim Moriarty or Richard Brook?" He titled his head to the side, the wolf coming back, trapping his doe. "I want to know which man I love."

"Which man do you want."

She looked at him for a moment and thought. "I want James Moriarty. The man who broke into three of the most secure places. The man who takes what he wants. The man who kisses me with such compassion." She placed a hand on the back of his neck. "I love him."

A light came into his eyes. He looked her in the eyes, his own expression softening. "You're saying this to save the others." Panic hit her for a moment but ebbed away as his expression turned kind and warm. "You might not love me truly now, but you will. You'll love me and discover…I'm Mr. Sex."

He smirked at her. Anita glanced from his deadly eyes to his lips. She closed the distance between them and kissed him. He moved a hand from the door and placed it around her waist. He kissed her greedily, loving the intensity and passion.

He pulled back and looked at her. "Your kisses burn like fire."

She gave him another kiss before he turned his face away. He deleted the message he had up on his phone. He scrolled through till he came upon another message that read: **ABORT**. He hit send to her relief. Anita rested her head against his shoulder for a moment before looking back to him. He kissed her again.

"Get some sleep. You'll be hearing from me soon."

With that he left her room. She listened to the front door open and shut. She sank down to the floor and buried her head in her hands.

**Two chapters! Do you love me? Hope you like them! If you don't…well just don't tell me =) **


	22. A condemned woman

**Reviews are amazing guys! Thanks for all the support. Alright…ready for this next part? **

**Sherlock will die. The game can only end when one of us is dead.**

Her heart stopped.

"Everything alright Anita?" Tommy asked coming up to her. She hadn't realized she'd been standing there gaping at her phone.

"Yeah brilliant Tommy." She shut her mobile and tucked it back into her pocket. "Why?"

He shrugged. "You looked shocked is all."

Anita nodded and forced out a laugh. "One of my mates got pissed last night. There are pictures of him getting freaked out in the London Dungeon."

Tommy laughed. "Good times hu?"

She nodded as he walked away. Walking over to her director she tried to think of an excuse to go outside. Heart pounding, she simply said she had a family emergency and it would only take a moment. The director told her to get things sorted and take all the time she needed. Anita quickly walked outside to the back of the theater. A shiver went down her spine as she remembered being carried out to the van by the two men.

Pushing the memory aside she took out her mobile and dialed his number.

"What do you mean he has to die? That's not what we agreed." Pause. "You said if I gave you my love they wouldn't be hurt." Pause. She ran a hand through her hair. "I love you! You know I do!" Pause. "No Jim, Sherlock means nothing…" Her heart felt like it was stuck in her throat at those words. "Now wait a minute, just listen. You need Sherlock. If you end him, you end the game. Then what will you do? You need Sherlock just as he needs you to survive." She let out a breath of relief. He had agreed with her. "Why don't you let me think of something? My first evil act…what do yea say? Okay good. I love you so much. Bye."

She hung up and squeezed the phone as if to choke the life out of it. Anita doubled over letting out a mix between a sob and a scream. Staying like that for a long moment, she let out a few deep breaths. As she stood there her phone buzzed. She straightened up and slid the phone open.

**We're hiding out in the hospital. Please come by and see us. I want to know you're alright. **

**J **

Anita rubbed her forehead. She felt utterly useless. She had her brother and the man she loved waiting for her at the hospital. Then she had the man she'd chosen waiting for her to give him a devious plan. Her heart was being torn in so many ways it would take decades to get all the pieces back together.

Finally getting her nerves together she texted him back.

**I'll be there soon. Give me a second to get out of practice. **

**A **

Taking a deep breath she made her way back into the theater. Telling the director she wouldn't be able to complete practice, all of them gave her comforting pats, saying they hoped everything would be alright. She gathered her things and grabbed a cab. Anita was at the hospital in no time and walked straight to the chemistry lab. Sherlock sat on the floor, bouncing a ball off some cabinets while John fooled with a microscope. The second they saw her, both men jumped up.

Sherlock got to her first, taking long strides, and wrapped her in his arms. Anita buried her face in his chest, taking in his smell and the familiar beat of his heart. She wanted to remember these things incase this would be their last moment together. He pulled her face up and leaned down to kiss her. As their lips met he could feel a change in her. Her kiss, which was usually tender and sweet, was now cold and bitter. He set her at arm's length to look at her.

"Are you alright?" he asked. She smiled but it was forced.

"I'm fine. You two idiots had me and Mrs. Hudson worried all night." She turned to John and smacked his arm playfully. He pulled her into a tight hug. Anita tried to fight back the tears she could feel coming.

"Anita we were right. It was Jim," John said. She hoped her surprised look was convincing.

"What? How? What happened?"

John sat her down and recounted the story. As he did so Sherlock watched her carefully. Anita sat there and nodded at the appropriate moments but she wasn't listening. Her eyes looked dead, as if she had heard this story a thousand times. Sherlock felt his heart twist in his chest. She wasn't alright, though she was doing her best to make them believe she was.

As he looked her over he suddenly realized her kiss was more of a goodbye. Why would she be trying to say goodbye? He was about to interrupt John and bring this to light but John finished his recount.

"Don't worry though," he said placing a hand on her knee. "Everything will be alright."

This sent Anita into a fit. She stood quickly from the stool she had been sitting on. John watched her with a furrowed brow. Both men watched her pace for a moment.

"You always say that! You're always telling me 'everything will be alright'," she said angrily. "But it's not John! Everything is not alright! It never will be don't you understand that?"

John shook his head. "Anita…"

She let out a huff of breath placing her hands on her hips. "I can't…I have to go…"

John stood as she headed for the door. He asked for her to stay and talk to him but she kept going. John was about to follow her out when Sherlock stopped him.

"Let her alone John." John looked at him and then back to the door she had gone out of.

"What just happened?" he asked coming back towards Sherlock.

"She is under stress. Not only has Jim been relentless in his attacks on her, but on us as well." Sherlock bounced the ball on the floor, catching it with ease. "Give her time to calm."

John plopped down on the stool and dragged a hand over his face. Sherlock headed for the door. 'Where you off too? We can't leave, still being hunted."

"Not going far," Sherlock reassured him. John watched him leave and just scratched his head, letting out a long breath.

* * *

><p>Sherlock opened the door slightly and peeked out. Two cops sat across the street, no doubt keeping a watch for him. He shook his head, the common officer was so thick. Finally he spotted who he was looking for. A young man, dirty and raggedy, was on the corner holding out a cup for donations. Sherlock whistled a certain tune and waited.<p>

The young man made his way over to the emergency exit Sherlock was peeking out of. He stood with his back to the door.

"Spare any change? Change for a good bloke?" called the young man.

"Afternoon," Sherlock said from his place behind the door.

"Afternoon Holmes," the young man replied. "How's your day been? Change?"

"Oh you know, just on the run from the fuzz. Accused of kidnapping and insanity. The usual." The man laughed.

"That right? Any change for a good bloke? Spare any change miss? Bless you miss."

"Got a job for you." He reached into his pocket and slipped a hundred quid into the man's hand.

"What do you need Holmes?"

"Do you know what Anita Watson looks like?" He nodded. "Good. The second you see her walk out of this hospital you trail her. Report to me at the flat in three hours."

The man nodded. "Right you are Holmes. Three hours, 221 B."

Sherlock patted the man on the shoulder. "Good lad."

* * *

><p>"Hi Molly." She jumped and dropped the corpse's arm back onto the table.<p>

"Oh," she said putting a hand over her heart. "Anita. You gave me a start," she said with a laugh.

"Sorry." Anita walked further into the room. Molly shook her head and smiled.

"No, no it's okay. I'm just so used to this place being dead." She laughed but stopped. Sherlock always told her not to make jokes. "I mean…well…uhm so I thought after your experience at the hospital you wouldn't want to come anywhere near the morgue."

"Well I wanted to say thanks. You were a good friend to my brother and the flowers were beautiful." Molly smiled and nodded. "I was also wondering if I could talk to you."

"Oh, oh yeah of course." She took off her gloves and covered the body back up.

Anita hesitated for a moment. "You know Sherlock pretty well right?"

Molly blushed and gave a nervous laugh. "I guess you could say that."

"Well say you knew someone wanted Sherlock…gone. Dead. If there was a way you could save him, how would you do it?"

The smile slipped from Molly's face. She looked at the girl with concern. "Anita…is everything…are you in danger? Is he in danger?" Anita stood there silent. Molly understood right away. "It's Jim isn't it? He played me too. Acted like a real gentleman, took me to nice places, was sweet to me…"

Anita looked down at her feet. "Did he make you think he cared for you?"

Molly nodded. "Yeah…that was the cruel part." She let out a little laugh. "Suppose it was the same for you. Well maybe not since he seems genuinely interested in you."

"What do I do?" Anita looked back up to Molly. Molly could see the desperation, heart ache, and sadness in the girl's eyes.

"If Jim is trying to hurt Sherlock…don't underestimate him. He will hurt him in any way he can. If I were in your position…I would hurt Sherlock first." She paused for a moment. "Hurt him first, make him think you don't love him. Cause if you don't he'll keep coming after you and then Jim will strike like the rattlesnake he is. It sounds cliché but you need to hurt him to save him."

Anita nodded. "I was afraid that would be the answer." She let out a long breath and shook her head. "Would you do something for me? Just keep an eye on them. Make sure they don't do anything stupid. I know it is a lot to ask for, especially with Sherlock…"

Molly nodded. "I'll watch out for them."

Anita walked over and hugged Molly. "Thank you."

Molly hugged the girl back. "I'm sorry it had to come to this. What are you going to do?"

Anita pulled away and just gave her a weak smile. She walked out of the morgue and out of the hospital. The second she was out she called him.

"Jim? I think I know what to do about Sherlock…"


	23. I want to be evil

Pack light, that's what he had said. Anita looked around her room and tried to think what would be considered light? Finally she got out an overnight bag and began tossing clothes into it. She threw in shoes, her brush, makeup, and mobile charger. Zipping it up she thought about what she was leaving behind. A particular picture came into her mind. She walked up to the sitting room and picked a picture frame up off the mantle. She took the picture out and looked at it with a smile.

It was a picture of her, John, and Sherlock. She had taken it while they were walking through Kensington gardens, on a rare day there were no cases to be solved and they could enjoy the day. Her smile grew as she recalled that day. Sherlock did want to go to the gardens, claiming the fresh air would kill him. Anita had forced him to go and be somewhat pleasant.

While there she took pictures every chance she got. Some were of the actual gardens, her and John, her and a scowling Sherlock, one of Sherlock and John, and one of the three of them. The grumpy consulting detective would absolutely not smile but agreed to take this picture. That was the one she held in her hands.

Anita was so deep in the moment that she hadn't heard John come up the stairs.

"That was a good day," he said standing in the doorway. She turned and tucked the picture into her back pocket. "We should do that again, walk around, have a laugh." He walked into the room. "I feel like I haven't laughed in years."

"I wouldn't count on having a laugh anytime soon." She began to head for the door.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked in frustrated tone. She opened her mouth but he put up a hand. "And don't you dare say nothing. I know there is something wrong. You're not acting like you."

"I have to go." She made for the door but he stepped in front of her. He took her and placed her in front of the table by the couch. He held her by the shoulders, keeping her in place.

"Anita tell me what is going on." She looked away and he tried to catch her eye. "Is it Jim?" No answer. "What did he do? Did he hurt you? What?"

"There's nothing that can be done," she finally said. Anita wiggled out of his grip.

John's eyes grew sad and worried. "Anita whatever he did, whatever he threatened you with…we can fix it. You were right, everything is not alright but that doesn't mean we can't try. Hmm?"

She shook her head. The tears she had held back before came spilling over. "It's not going to work like that this time."

"It will," he said trying to comfort her. She shook her head.

"No! No John." Her voice cracked. "This isn't one of my plays. You can't play the knight this time. We're not kids anymore!" Her lower lip trembled as she sniffed. "I wish we could have those days back too. I wish we could go back before all this." John's heart swelled. So she had heard him in the hospital, his words had gotten through to her. "But the world doesn't work like that," she said turning away from him. "You have to let me go."

"No," he answered firmly. "I won't give up Anita."

She picked up his gun off the desk and aimed it at him. John's eyes narrowed at her. He took a couple steps back till the back of his legs hit the table.

"You have to let me alone John. Neither you nor Sherlock can come after me."

"Anita…I'm not going to give up. I'm not…"

She cocked the gun and fired. The bullet went wizzing by his head. John flinched and raised his hands up to cover his head. Once some of the shock passed he looked to her with wide eyes.

"Whoa! Whoa! Anita!"

She sighed and sniffed. "The next one is aimed direct John. So unless you want your right shoulder to match your left…" He shook his head in disbelief. When had she snapped into this person? She could see him trying to pin point the moment she had turned. "Your baby sister is a monster John. Can't be helped."

She began to back up to the door. Keeping the gun aimed at John she paused at the door.

"Don't follow me John. Don't come after me, don't even think about me." Once she was sure she had made her point, she eased up. She took the gun off of him and set it on the floor before turning and running down the stairs. She grabbed her duffle bag and went out of the flat.

* * *

><p>Why was John's gun on the floor? He picked it up and walked into the sitting room. John was sitting on the couch, his face buried in his hands. Sherlock looked around the room and then back to his friend. Awkwardly he stood there for a moment wondering if he should say something, wondering what he should say.<p>

"A-are you crying John?"

John brought his head up and dragged his sleeve across his eyes. "No."

"I can give you a moment if…"

"I'm not crying Sherlock. I was cutting an onion," he said gesturing to the kitchen. Sherlock peered in, there was nothing cooking. He looked back to John confused.

"There's nothing on the stove…"

"I'm not crying!"

Sherlock raised his hands in innocence. He set down John's gun on the desk and took a seat in his chair. "Anita in?"

"No," John said with a tired sigh. He hesitated and tried to find the right words. How to tell the man who loves your sister that she has turned against everything she cherished in life? "She's gone Sherlock."

"What play practice?" he asked starting to strum his violin.

John hung his head. "No Sherlock…she's _gone_."

Sherlock looked at him with a blank expression. "John what have I told you about being vague?" John was about to yell at Sherlock but the buzzer went off and he jumped out of his chair. "The homeless network! Brilliant!"

John watched as he set the violin down and trotted downstairs. He listened as Sherlock answered the door.

"Holmes you better come quick like," said a man's voice.

"What is it? Where did she go?" John already had an idea of who she was with.

"That Moriarty bloke…he's got her mate. Saw her climb into a car wiff him in it. They went down Baker Street, left, then right on Walter Ave and then I lost 'em. Sorry Holmes."

"No, no. Nothing to be sorry for my boy." Sherlock grabbed his coat and scarf. "John," he called up the stairs. "John! Jo…useless doctor. Right I think I know where they are headed."

John sat on the couch listening to the front door slam shut. He wanted more than anything to take to the streets with Holmes to find Anita. But something in him made him stay put. Her words trapped him on that couch. He had lost his little sister, the only one he felt particularly close to in his family. His Eva, gone as quickly as one blinks.

He sat back on the couch and let the tears resume falling down his cheek.

* * *

><p>Sherlock was in the cab when his phone buzzed. His heart jumped when seeing the caller ID.<p>

"Anita," he said answering the phone. She was scared and crying, sending his heart into his stomach. "Shh. Anita I'm here. I'm coming."

"Sherlock," she got out. "Please…I need help. He has a gunman on me." Oh Moriarty would pay for this. Sherlock would enjoy making him suffer slowly. "I'm at the hospital…the roof. Sherlock please…"

"I'm almost there Anita. Just stay calm sweetheart. Stay on the phone with me." The hospital was in his sight. So close now. Finally the cab stopped and he darted out.

"Sherlock stop." He froze where he was. "Look up." He did as she said, eyes following the building till he saw her.

"Oh God," he breathed.

She was standing on the ledge of the hospital. The wind whipped around her, sending her hair across her face. He could hear the static it caused on her mobile. Looking carefully he could see the tip of a gun being pointed at her. She began to sob heavily, saying his name in a sweet depressing tone.

"Sherlock."

"Alright Anita. It's alright. I'm here now. No one is going to hurt you." She tried to take in a couple of deep breaths to stop the crying. He reached out a hand to her, as if they would be able to touch each other. She did the same and reached out to him from her perch. "Keep your eyes fixed on me. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," she answered weakly.

"I'm coming up to get you. Just stay on the phone with me." He ran towards the hospital. "Keep talking Anita!"

But she didn't speak. She made little noises of trying to calm herself, more sobs escaped, and his name slipped out occasionally. Sherlock finally made his way up to the roof ready to kick in the brain of the man holding the gun on her. Slamming into the door he stumbled out onto the roof.

There she stood on the ledge but there was no gunman. He tucked his phone away and looked about. The 'gun tip' he had seen was a piece of plastic you could find in a garbage bin. Confused Sherlock slowly walked towards her.

"Anita…where is the gunman?"

She put her phone back into her pocket and spun around on her heel. Jumping off the ledge, to safety' she wiped at the tears.

"I have to say, I'm pretty brilliant at those crying bits." She smiled and shook her head. "I should get a BAFTA for that performance." She walked towards him, seeing the confusion clear in his ocean blue eyes.

"What's going on?" he asked looking at her carefully. "What are you playing at?"

She gave him a smile and raised her eyebrows. "Uh oh. You haven't figured it out yet?" She made a face. "Oh dear…I think the world is going to end!"

He watched as she began to circle him like a vulture. "Is Jim making you do this?" He grabbed her to make her stop circling and look at him. "What did he threaten you with?"

Anita gave him a curious look. "You really don't know? Should I give you a hint?" She paused for a moment. "Jim and I have been working together for months."

His brow furrowed. "You couldn't have been…"

"I'm a better actress than you give me credit for. Everything has been planned." She could see the gears in his extraordinary mind turning. "All of this was laid out the moment I met Jim."

Sherlock let go of her, feeling his mind spin. "It's not possible."

She shrugged. "Improbable maybe…be very possible. The first time we went out he told me exactly who he was. From there on everything was set. The poisoning, the antidote, the trial, the whole Richard Brook bit. I think we both deserve awards. Our performances…" She clapped. "Awe inspiring don't you think?"

He shook his head. "But John…"

"Yeah…I feel bad about that. I love John, I do love my brother. But I just…I'm always looked at as his kid sister. Prim, proper, the girl who's never been kissed. I'm sick of it! But then I met Jim and boy…" ,she whistled, "…did he send my world for a spin."

"I love you Anita…"

Her expression softened as she placed a hand on his cheek. "I know…and that was your downfall."

He stood stalk still trying to get a read on her. But his mind was so chaotic that he couldn't focus. "Where was the fault in loving you with my whole heart?" he asked coldly.

"Shall I tell him?" she asked never looking away from his eyes. "Or do you want to?"

Finally she looked over his shoulder. Sherlock turned and saw Jim emerge from behind the door to the inside of the hospital. He came walking towards them with a smug look on his features. Anita walked over to him, slipping an arm around his waist. Jim pulled her to his side with an arm around her shoulders.

"You may have loved her," Jim answered. "But she never loved you." As he spoke he gave each word its own tune. "She's fantastic isn't she?" He placed a kiss on her cheek with a smacking sound.

Sherlock closed his eyes and tried to make sense of what he was being told. "No. No Anita you love me. I know it. I saw it in you! I felt it!"

She walked over to him slowly. "I told you, I'm a good actress. I made you think I was in love with you. I made you feel, made you weak in the heart and the mind. Good isn't it?"

He gave her a cold look. "You love me. I know you do."

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you? How? Did you read me like you read Irene? Did you take my pulse?" Anita placed two fingers on the inside of his wrist. "Cause I'm taking yours. My, my what a fast heart you have Mr. Holmes. Can't be good for your health."

Yanking his wrist away in irritation he scolded, "Stop it Anita! Stop this right now!"

"I've already stopped," she laughed. "The act is over Sherlock. The play is done. So take a bow."

Anita bowed as she did on stage. Sherlock watched her feeling sick. Slowly she backed up till her back was pressed against Jim's chest. He encircled her with his arms, smiling at Sherlock.

"I told you," he said after everything had sunk in. "I told you I would burn the heart out of you."

Sherlock directed his gaze to Jim. "I've been reliably informed that I don't have one."

Jim's smile grew wicked. "We both know that's not true." He turned and kissed Anita's temple. She stood there in his arms, staring at Sherlock. "Well, we'd better be off. Ta. Until round three Sherlock Holmes."

Jim took Anita's hand and led her to the door. She didn't look back at him or say another word. Sherlock stood there feeling like someone had just told him the world was fake and everything he believed in was wrong. A weight crushed down on him, pressing his heart out of existence. Anita had ripped it out and squeezed until only dust was left.

**So a good song for this moment is Eartha Kitt's song I want to be evil. I recommend the original as well as the Giant remix. Heard this song at the end of the movie Dead Bodies, staring our wonderful and talented Andrew Scott. If you have a chance to hear the song or see the movie…highly recommend you do so. **

**So hope you guys like this version of Sherlock's 'fall'. I know it's not as touching as it was with John and Sherlock and their captivating bromance…but I tried. **


	24. My echo, my shadow

**Five months later:**

Molly walked in with two cups in her hands. She set one down by John, tea, milk, no sugar.

"Cheers," he said giving her a smile. "Thanks Molly."

"No problem." The next one she set down by Sherlock, coffee, black, two sugars. "There you are Sherlock."

"Mmm," was his response. His electric blue eyes were buried behind a microscope, as they so often were these days. The two men had a new pressing case that was demanding their attention day and night. They had taken on so many cases in the past few months, they had hardly left the chemical lab and gone home to the flat.

"How's the case going?" Sherlock simply nodded. She glanced over to where John was bent over pictures of the crime scene and police reports. Quietly she added, "Do you think it's them? Moriarty and Anita?"

"Why should any of this have to do with them?" he asked in a monotone voice.

Molly shrugged. "Isn't that why you take most of the cases you do? To see if you can find her?"

"Why would I want to find Anita?" he asked looking to Molly for a brief moment.

Molly bit her tongue. For months she wanted to tell Sherlock and John that Anita loved them. That what she did was to save them from being hurt…or killed. But she had to keep her mouth shut, or she would undo all the work and progress that Anita had accomplished. But she had to say something…just a little something that might comfort her favorite consulting detective.

"You're a bit like my dad," she spoke after a moment. "He's dead." She shook her head. "No…sorry."

"Molly please don't feel the need to make conversation," he bit out. "It's really not your area."

She felt her shoulders slump. He was being rude as always, putting up his defense. But she had to press on. "When he was dying he was always cheerful, he was lovely. Except when he thought no one could see." She looked to him, though he was not looking back. "I saw him once…he looked sad."

"Molly," Sherlock said in warning.

"You look sad," she glanced over to John, "when you think he can't see you."

Sherlock's eyes followed and landed on his flat mate, friend, family. John was still hunched over the pictures and reports. Sherlock directed his gaze to Molly.

"Are you okay?" He opened his mouth to answer but she cut in. "And don't just say you are, because I know what that means…looking sad when you think no one can see you."

Sherlock turned towards her, directing all his attention on her. "You can see me."

Molly smiled. "I don't count." He gave a surprised look at this. How could she think that way? "What I'm trying to say is…that if you need anything…if there is anything I can do you can have me." Once again she realized how inappropriate that sounded. "N-no I mean…if there's anything you need…" She shook her head. "It's fine."

"B-but what could I need from you?"

"Nothing. I don't know…" She turned away from him and then turned back. 'I'm going to get some crisps. Do you want anything?"

"Well actually…"

"No I know you don't," she said in a hurry and left. Molly was glad to get away from him for a bit. If she didn't she would soon spill her guts about Anita and everything would be for nothing.

* * *

><p>John had gone home hours ago. Sherlock stayed behind to figure out some key components for the case. As he was working he saw Molly gathering her things, ready to leave.<p>

"You do count," he spoke as she was about to go to the door. She jumped at the sudden sound of his voice. "You do count Molly Hooper. You've always been someone I could rely on, a friend I didn't know I had, didn't acknowledge. And you're right…" he looked to her, "…I'm not okay."

"What do you need?"

"You," he said simply. Her heart swelled at the thought. He walked to her as he spoke. "I miss her Molly. I miss Anita more than I care to say and I…I just need someone to talk to. I can't talk to John, he's a mess as it is…"

Molly nodded. "Of course Sherlock…you can tell me anything. Why don't you come to my flat? I…I mean…what I mean is we can have dinner. W-well a f-f-friendly dinner…a…uhm…"

He nodded. "That would be nice."

She smiled in relief. "Good. Good, then we could have a proper chat and talk things out."

Unexpectedly he hugged her. "Thank you Molly."

She hugged him back, one of her daydreams come true. He collected his things and followed her out.

* * *

><p>It was around one when Sherlock finally got in. John was still wide awake in the sitting room. The telly was the only light source aside from the streetlamps out the window. Sherlock took off his coat and scarf, tossing them onto the couch. He took his usual seat and watched the program with John. They sat in silence for what felt like decades.<p>

Then suddenly they heard a cab pull up. John perked up and jumped out of his seat. Sherlock sadly watched him to the window eagerly and pull back the curtain.

"It's not her John," Sherlock said. This happened so often Sherlock wondered if it would ever stop. Would studious Doctor John Watson ever stop jumping when a cab pulled up, upon hearing the doorbell, a floor board creak in the hall or on the stair? Would he ever give up the hope that his beloved little sister would show on their door step?

John sat back down in disappointment as usual. "Where do you think she is?"

"I don't know." Not as if he hadn't thought about it every waking moment of the days. That's why he needed all these case, to keep his mind off her.

John ran a hand through his hair. "Right…I'm off for bed then. Night Sherlock."

"Goodnight John."

He heard John's door close and sunk down into his chair. The glow of the telly had a surprising calming effect on him. He sat there flipping through channels until he stopped on a food channel. For some reason this channel always made him forget everything and focus on how much butter to use for pancakes or how to get a biscuit perfectly fluffy without burning it.

Just as he got focused on how to make meringue his phone buzzed. Sitting up he fished it out of his pocket.

**Love is a lie that will set you free. **

The message etched itself into his eyes and heart. A tear fell from his ocean blue eyes and dropped onto the screen.

* * *

><p>A tear dropped onto the phone as she read over the message she sent. The picture of the three of them sat next to her on the bed. Wiping the tear off the phone she typed another message to her brother.<p>

**Everything will be alright.**

Another tear hit as a sob pushed its way out. Anita hit send and closed her phone. She picked up the picture and sadly smiled at the happy faces looking back at her. She ran her fingers over the faces of the two men she loved the most.

Shaking her head she snapped out of it. This was ridiculous, she had to stop crying. Jim would be home any moment and if he found her like this, there was no telling what he would do. Anita tucked the picture under the mattress on her side of the bed and got up to clean her face. She wiped the tears away and put on fresh makeup. Just as she finished she heard him come home.

"Where's my earth angel?" called his voice. Quickly she checked herself over once more and walked out to meet him. "There she is."

Anita went into his arms and placed a loving kiss on his lips. "I love you Jim."

He smiled at her. "Love you too devil's bride."

She put on a smile for him and kissed him, this time more passionately. Jim slipped an arm around her waist and led her out to the car waiting to take them out. On the nightstand by the bed her phone rang. The message read:

**Set me free.**

**The End **

**Ah! Hope you guys liked this story! Thank you to everyone who has been reading, to my readers from My Traveling Man, for adding this story and me to favorites, for everything! I'm sorry this has to come to an end…but who knows…maybe when the new season comes out we will have some new adventures. **

**Again thank you and have an amazing reading experience! **

**Write on! **

**~Bess **


	25. Author's Note

**Okay don't get too excited here…I'm just writing a note to you all. Again thank you so much for the support and the amazing reviews. Every time I get a review I go into a spaz moment of 'Oh my God! Someone reviewed! What did they say? Holy zombie Jesus I have to read it now!' So thank you all for giving me moments of spaz nerd girl who needs to calm herself…**

**Anyway, I just wanted to let you know…someone mentioned in a review that I should do a Jim/Anita one shot or shot story about their relationship. Sooooo my mind is going to work and we will see what we get. It might take some time cause school and I'm trying to develop a plot or something for a one shot or whatever…**

**So bear with me and when it comes, I'll write, and then I'll post. Just a little something to tide us all over until season 3 is out. Hear that Moffat? Hurry up man! We're dying here! **

**~Bess =)**


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